明けましておめでとうございます.
Japan marks the change of the lunar year zodiac on 1 January, even though it is the start of the solar year.
This temporal mixed metaphor irks me, but it is what it is. I explained the background last year if you're interested.
So it is the officially the year of the snake in Japan now, but still the dominion of the dragon for a bit longer in the rest of Asia.
I have not photographed any snakes—terrestrial or marine—for ages. The photo above is from the previous century, shot on ancient technology called film (probably Provia), back when flip-phones were hip. My camera was a Nikon F90x, flashes probably Sea & Sea YS-50s, maybe 60s, though I liked the 50s more.
It is an elephant trunk snake (Acrochordus javanicus), which lives throughout Southeast Asia and spends most of its time in the water. They are harmless to people. They prey on small fishes and other little animals.
I took this photo in an isolated saltwater lake, inaccessible at the time except by climbing for 30 minutes or so up and through tropical vegetation, at inclines frequently exceeding 45º. There were no resorts. No visiting liveaboard vessels. Just bozos in a boat criss-crossing the Celebes. Hauling tanks, dive gear and photo equipment up sharp(!), pointy rocks was, let's just say unpleasant, punctuated by lots of ouches and *%@(#@!!! Mosquitoes and other bitey-bugs were a bonus.
This snake was weaving in and out of tree branches extending just above and dipping into the water. What got my attention was the animal's eyes. The snake itself was drab, the aquatic environment also not terribly colourful. The blue drew me in. It took some time for the snake to accept my presence. The moment shown here is during a pause, when the serpent wrapped itself around a branch, perhaps for a rest, perhaps to consider its next course of action. It stayed for a minute or so, then resumed its search for victims.
Looking for a photograph of a snake in order to mark the (mis-timed) change of the lunar zodiac in Japan ended up taking me on a trip down memory lane, giving me the opportunity to recall an adventure from decades ago, when I had found myself—as I often do—in a remote place, engaging in pursuits many would consider ill-advised at best, for a purpose that one struggles to articulate in any semblance of a rational manner.
It is in this spirit that I wish you a happy new year, filled with the promise of similar experiences, ones that might be difficult to explain, but are—to me at least—what make life worth living.