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When I was a little bitty girl, I was the kid in the family that was never afraid of creepy crawlies and slithery things. This distinction made me the default assistant for when my dad needed to photograph the various creatures that he had captured or needed to document. On most occasions these animals were insects, but on very special occasions, they were reptilian. My dad and I would carefully pose the animal, whether it was a lizard, a gecko, or a snake.

With snakes, you had to be extra quick because they ran the risk of slithering out of a pose faster than their pedestrian friends. To ensure a good photo would come from the shoot, we'd have to take many shots. Between each one, I would have to reach down and shield the snake with my hands in order to intimidate it into staying frozen. Most of the time, the subject of the photo would comply and shrink away from my hands and closer to the ground.

The other day, however, this was not the case. As we photographed this particular snake, she had the spine to snap up and defend herself. Before I knew it, there was blood slipping down my arm from a couple little puncture wounds. My dad saw the cuts and asked if I was okay, while calmly reassuring me that this snake wasn't poisonous in the least bit. I, on the other hand, went completely white as I just stared at the little marks like a deer in the headlights. After I realized that it didn't really hurt, I got cleaned up and we finished the shoot.









...check that off the list of Things to do Before I Die, right?

+ [Check the date stamp, lovers. Poisson d'Avril. XOXO]