It was around 8pm and still light. I was in the back field driving a tractor with a mower hitched to the back. The tractor had an open cab with a short canopy that covered my head, but not my hands. Apart from the occasional grasshopper, it’s rare for anything to get in. So when a 4ft snake fell out of the sky on to my arm, it took a moment to register what it was.

I tried to fling it off. Unfortunately, the snake had the opposite instinct – it wrapped itself around my arm and, as I swung frantically from side to side, it began striking at my face. I kept flinging my arm around, but its coils only tightened in response. I was screaming, “Help me, Jesus!” over and over. That’s when a hawk swooped down and tried to grab the snake.

I’m usually good at keeping a level head in a crisis, but I was in survival mode, reacting automatically. So was the snake. Understandably, it didn’t want to let go of me, so as the bird attempted to lift it into the air, my arm was pulled with it. The hawk’s wings were flapping in my face, making it difficult to see. Its claws dug into my skin, and all the while the tractor was still moving forwards. The hawk took off three times without the snake, before finally dragging it from my arm on the fourth go, and flying away with it.

The whole incident probably lasted no more than half a minute, but I’d been screaming throughout. My husband had heard me, and as I stumbled from the tractor, I saw him running towards me. Wendell says I was hysterical and that he couldn’t make out what I was trying to say. But he could see that my arm was covered in blood, so he killed the tractor’s engine and bundled me into our truck.

As we drove to the local ER, he asked me again what had happened. “The snake!” I said.

“A snake did this to you?”

“No, no – the hawk!”

By the time we reached the hospital, I could barely see out of one eye, but that problem was solved by removing my glasses – the right lens was smeared with snake spit or venom. Once my arm was cleaned up, we could see it was covered in cuts and abrasions caused by the hawk’s talons, and bruises left by the snake. I had no idea what species either was, I only knew the snake had been dark in colour, and the hawk was brown and white.

Our local congressman presented me with a flag and a proclamation for fighting off danger, and someone in LA wrote a song about it, which was pretty cute – my daughter showed me the video on TikTok.

We’ve bought a new mower, too, with a longer canopy. I’m taking no chances – we stuck a sign on the top, which can be read from above. It says: “No snakes.”

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyl ... snake-hawk

mikeukt wrote: ↑Sat Oct 21, 2023 5:28 pm And this is why it's real important for Americans to carry their guns everywhere.

If she'd had a gun she could have shot the snake as it fell, no wait, she didn't see it fall.

Well the , she could have threatened the hawk with the gun to get it to back off while the grateful snake escaped.

But then again, OK, got it, she could have shot her husband for not being there when she needed him. Right, that's it.

GeorgExpat wrote: ↑Mon Feb 12, 2024 9:21 am That’s an extraordinary and harrowing experience! It's the hawk's fault for dropping the snake. Good thing the woman was wearing glasses, and the hawk finally got the snake after the fourth try.

John Bingham wrote: ↑Mon Feb 12, 2024 2:28 pm Thanks for explaining your technical illiteracy again. The Guardian doesn't have any paywall.