I had the feeling of a good
snake day. The weather was humid with
hazy sunshine through thin cloud. I took
myself off to high up on the Greensand Ridge, not far from Westerham, to look
for adders in an area where KRAG has laid refuges at several sites. I had been lucky there in the past, and
arrived with anticipation. The first
site produced two males lying out to soak up the morning sun, at the second si

te
I spooked a male amongst the fallen leaves of last autumn and this year’s
bluebells and at a third site a large Grass Snake didn’t take kindly to my
interruption, and slithered off under the adjacent brash. Things were looking encouraging.
At the next site, I had seen
a male adder on my last visit but there was no sign this time. I stood enjoying the sunshine and the
birdsong. Then, at about 10m from where
I was standing there was a sudden rustle of last year’s Sweet Chestnut
leaves. Amongst the leaves, bluebells
and bramble, I could just make out black and white markings. I carefully closed the gap by half, then stood
petrified as two male adders came out of the undergrowth in ‘combat’. I had my camera ready and mounted it on my
monopod and started shooting. The
pattern of the combat seemed to be wrestle like hell for 3 to 4 minutes, then
take a break for about 1 minute, then back to the wrestling. To take the photos I was standing on the
footpath and after about 5 minutes a couple with a dog came along and stopped
to ask what I was doing. I thought, this
is it, the dog will charge in and so end this story. I can’t remember what I said but it probably
wasn’t very friendly as the next time I looked out of the corner of my eye they
and the dog had gone; but the two males were still wrestling.

I couldn’t have told you how
long I stood there, but, looking back at the times on the photos it was about
25 minutes; enough time to get plenty of shots.
Then, as suddenly as it had started,
it was over; the two males stopped wrestling and settled down in front of me
about 2m apart. From the body language,
I thought the one nearest me had lost but I was wrong. After a couple of minutes to recover he moved
off, heading for a bramble patch about 10m away. I watched him and as he got to the patch, he
slowed down, and met up with his prize, a female, well camouflaged in the
undergrowth. He moved all over her,
gradually getting into the same position that she was in.
Before he could manage this,
I caught a movement from the corner of my eye, it was the loser, heading
straight for the happy couple. He got
right up to the pair, and was a couple of inches away, when the winner, using
his tail like a whip, delivered a good slap to the head. The loser turned tail and settled almost under
my feet to lick his wounds. The winner
eventually found the right position, and the fruits of this happy union will
hopefully be found in the autumn.
Before leaving, I checked the
head pattern of the loser, it was the male I saw on my last visit.