It is not uncommon to witness a mating ball dangling precariously from a tree branch, a wisteria vine, or—most terrifyingly for arachnophobes—a wooden power pole. They seem to defy physics, holding onto a knot of writhing bodies with just their tail tips while dangling over your backyard patio. If you find a breeding ball in your yard, do not panic. Do not spray. Do not get the shovel.
The result is not a "couple." It is a .
But they don't bite. They push. Each male tries to topple the other to the ground. It looks like a slow-motion wrestling match between two very long, scaly arm wrestlers. The winner gets the right to get closest to the female. The loser slithers off to find a less popular date. Most people assume snakes mate in tall grass or under logs. Rat snakes are the gymnasts of the serpent world. They are semi-arboreal, meaning they love heights. rat snake mating season
The males aren't trying to crush the female; they are trying to out-slither each other. They writhe, twist, and align their tails, attempting to be the one to successfully mate. It is chaotic, noisy (yes, they hiss), and looks like a basket of rubber hoses that has come to life. Here is the weirdest part of rat snake romance: Male combat. It is not uncommon to witness a mating
If you live in the Eastern or Central United States, you’ve probably met a rat snake. Maybe it was stretched across a hiking trail, looking like a fallen tree branch. Maybe it was scaling the brick wall of your garage, defying gravity. Or, if you’re really lucky, you found one curled up in your chicken coop looking for a free omelet. Do not spray