Scattered roofing tins were eagerly sought by herps and herpers alike.

I’m unsure of the year, but it was probably in the late 50s or early 60s, Gordy Johnston and I motored to Arkansas to visit Denny Miller. At that time there were woodlands, trash piles, pieces of cardboard, and discarded newspapers (today, in any form, the latter are an endangered species) along many of the rural roads that we travelled and beneath the scattered debris were kingsnakes bearing varying degrees of speckling, and rat snakes.

Today, traveling those same roads, there are instead of the old sights and sites, some woodlands, many homes and businesses, and an almost total lack of the trash that those long ago snakes called home.

Other states are the same way. Wayyyyy cleaner than they used to be. Gone, but not forgotten, are most of the illegal trashpiles within and beneath which herpers used to find scarlet kings, bullsnakes, coachwhips, garters, rat snakes, and others. Gone, too, are the collapsed wooden billboards and (because of those darned tubeless tires) the innertubes that once lay in profusion beneath the long removed Australian pines along Florida’s US27 south of the Big Lake. Those tubes and trees were home to Everglades rat snakes and Florida kings during the cooler days of winter. Gone too are the wooden railroad trestles, piles of deteriorating wooden railroad ties, wooden bridges over rural streams, pumphouses, scattered roofing tins…

Those long ago, ample trash-times, provided the Halcyon Days—Halcyon years in fact, If the term allows for such extensive prolonging, for herpers. Simply stated, trash, either in piles or scattered, meant snakes, sometimes many snakes, and finding snakes made for many herping excursions, the trips that provided the fodder for the fond memories of today’s older herpers, including yours truly.