Words & photography by Matt Wisner
I grew up in the foothills of the Appalachians in Pennsylvania. Our house sits at the base of South Mountain, sandwiched between two cornfields. I am deathly afraid of snakes, and was taught they could always be lurking nearby. I was raised to be this way. And the vigilance from my childhood has persisted. This summer was the first time I’ve lived in an urban place, and I’ve still constantly searched for snakes—in the slightly-too-tall grass between the sidewalk and the street, in small grass patches on campus, and even in trees. I check everywhere that’s even partially green to make sure I’m safe.
I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the forest this summer and never saw a single snake. Eight weeks without a sighting. But in my final three days here, I encountered my first slithering enemy in months. It was guarding the entrance to a trail that led down to the water at Saltwater State Park in Des Moines. I’m sure it could sense my fear. The creature was territorial. It clearly didn’t want me in its park.
I’ve seen multiple coyotes in Ravenna Park. I saw a black bear on a hike at Rattlesnake Ledge. But no snakes all summer—until now. I eventually worked up the courage to sneak by it, and I’m glad I did. When I got down to the beach, I could see farther out onto the water than I’d been able to in a while. All the other views I’ve seen of Puget Sound have been pretty far inland, and I’ve always seen land on the horizon. But here, the water seemed to never end.
I sat on a bench down by the water and continued reading James Baldwin. The essay I read in Saltwater State Park was titled “Nobody Knows My Name.” Before even reading the piece, I thought about how nobody knows my name either. I’m a stranger to Washington. The screaming children down near the water, their exhausted parents, the man selling two dollar iced coffee near the parking lot—none of them know me. And I found that incredibly comforting. Everything here is temporary, which means everything is also low-risk. I could confess all my secrets to the lady walking her dog and never see her again. I considered it as I continued to read the essay to find out what James Baldwin had to say.
