Weird things land in my email inbox, and then I know things I never wanted to know. I see things I can’t forget. And because I can’t get it out of my head, I end up writing about it. Then we’re all stuck in the same terrifying boat, so I apologize in advance for what you’re about to learn.
This first unfortunate truth came from an email newsletter titled “Nice News.” I signed up to receive this newsletter several years ago because “nice” is right there in the name. Since most of the world’s news is anxiety-provoking and depressing, I thought a regular dose of nice news would do me good. About 99 percent of the time, it does. I highly recommend it.
But last week I opened a nice news email and found a tiny little mention about a “flying snake.” Perhaps they included the link for people who love reptiles. I should’ve deleted it immediately. I have enough scary things in my head without adding a “flying snake” into the mix.
But in addition to being anxious, I can also be compulsive. And because I wanted to make sure I never accidentally put myself near a flying snake habitat, I clicked the link. After reading the details, I have both good news and bad news.
Let’s start with the good news: The golden tree snake can’t actually fly. That’s where the good news ends.
The bad news is that what the snake does is so close to flying that it will now haunt my dreams from this moment forward. These snakes are about 4 feet long and mostly live in trees. They can launch themselves out of the top of a tree and then flatten out their bodies so much that they basically double in width. That flattened shape helps them glide through the air, the way a leaf might catch air currents as it falls from a tree.
While the snake is gliding, it does the signature slithering motion that all snakes like to do, and this motion helps it stay airborne even longer and “fly” up to 300 feet, according to one report. It also helps the snake steer its flight and land on its intended target.
Once I learned that flying snakes mostly live in Southeast Asia and some remote caves in western Cambodia, I promptly marked those spots off my list of places to visit and tried to put them out of my mind.
The next email was a different newsletter called “Nautilus,” which covers space, science, and biology. I was having a lovely time reading the newsletter updates when I noticed a link to something described as a “legless lizard.” Maybe it was the alliteration that got me, but suddenly I needed to know how a legless lizard gets around. So, like an idiot, I clicked. And then I saw the photo.
Can you guess what a legless lizard might look like? I’ll give you a hint. It does not look like a lizard. If you saw one in your yard, you’d yell “SNAKE!”
A lizard minus legs gets around only by slithering. And if you ask me, anything that slithers falls squarely into the snake category. But scientists disagree, saying this legless lizard has external ear holes and eyelids that can blink. Snakes, on the other hand, don’t have outer ears or traditional eyelids, which is how they can stare unblinkingly at you while you die of a terror-induced heart attack.
Both of these weird stories reminded me of a universal truth: “Things are not always as they seem.” That slithering thing on the ground might be a lizard. That thing gliding through the air might be a sky-slithering snake. That “military operation” might be a war. Everything we see and read, especially online, deserves a closer look and a willingness to double-check the facts, even when it’s scary.
Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her books are available on Amazon.
Be the first to comment