Field Note: A Local Zoo

I still can’t do the snakes.

Out of guilt, and to compensate for my own vulnerability, I took my son to a local zoo. I knew there would be at least one snake there.

I clocked the reptile house on the zoo map almost immediately and, although I didn’t plan it that way, wound up there last.

We were looking at poison dart frogs through a small, cloudy window when I heard a scream from around the corner, followed by riotous laughter.

I froze and listened.

All I could gather was that someone else was just as afraid, and a sudden movement from behind the glass sent her reeling. That was enough to stop me from rounding the corner.

My son still doesn’t realize he missed out on an entire building of critters because his mama couldn’t bear the thought of being surprised by a snake. Even in a controlled environment.

How will I ever take him to see all the landscapes and ecosystems I want to show him when I can’t even handle a zoo?

A hiking partner, perhaps? A nearby mother-child pair willing to quite literally walk me through it?

My social media algorithms are finely tuned. Every day I am bombarded by images of women hiking through picturesque settings while their children explore the wild and ecologically diverse habitats around me.

They never show the snakes, but I’d be foolish to assume they’re never encountered.

That is, after all, half the point of going is it not?