'They say the land is poisoned here. That's two dead reptiles in one month, she thought. A shingle back and now a baby brown snake. Maybe it came out of hibernation and got cold last night. She picked it up with a small branch, pulling upwards to disentangle its coiled tail from the grass runners. It hung over the stick, its body barely as wide as her fingernail and maybe eight or nine inches long, faultless, not a mark anywhere. She should take it home, or to WIRES or Parks and Wildlife. Why was it dead? It was so entire and perfect...' (Publication abstract)