Rarely do men see the wonder at their feet. The serpent is loathed and feared, confined to crawl upon its belly in the dust. Few envy the way of the snake. Serpents have no arms, legs, or feet. Yet the snake makes its way up a stone wall. It forges for prey in the grass, and even under the ground. Birds on the highest perch are even prey for a hungry serpent. No place, high or low offers safety from the snake.
Out of curiosity, a man might study the way of a serpent. When fear is set aside, there is much to be learned by observing the snake. A snake's movement is always sure, balanced and stable, a considerable feat without the use of limbs. There is a fluid, sinuous grace, inherent in each movement. Stalking, the slow methodical movement of the snake's body is a lesson in perfect muscular control. The silent stealth with which it pursues prey is the envy of any hunter. Moving swiftly, the snake is deceptively fast, flowing like water down a steep slope. Striking, the snake moves faster than the eye can follow. Control, balance, flexibility, and speed; there is much to be learned from the way of the snake.