snakes for nyt

Usually we don't ever get asked if we're comfortable with the assignments we're about to photograph. And then, I would have answered the question "Are you afraid of snakes?" with a "Nah," even if I had been terrified of them.
I never knew snakes could stare at you, follow you with their eyes from their bed of dry saw dust. When they don't slither about or flick their tongues but just tense their long bodies and lay with a motionless stare there is a little rabbit within that would prefer using a very very long lens and then get the hell out. "It's your red jacket," said Jeremy Stone and laughed as his hand rested on his favorite albino boa constrictor. A few feet back another one had snapped at the clear plastic wall of its box as I walked by --"tock tock," after which I decided not to press my nose against any of these cages to watch their habitants from up close. It was feeding day and the snakes were hella hungry. Hundreds of them, in small boxes filled with dry saw dust, their bodies tense, with flickering tongues. It's the photo you want to see through your lens that draws you closer and makes you forget about yourself. You compose and preconceive and become entangled in the movie that's playing just so close to you. It's intimate and the reason why I would never say "No" even if I had been terrified of them. Which I'm still not. Story about Jeremy Stone and his snakes here.