Written by Andrew Smart, Head of Science & Research
The Secret Life of the Grass Snake: Spring into Summer
As the chill of winter fades and the days begin to warm, one of Britain’s most fascinating reptiles stirs from its slumber. The grass snake, our largest native snake species, typically emerges from hibernation around March or April, ready to begin a new season of activity.
By late spring, these snakes have left their hibernation sites and are actively basking in the sun, feeding, and preparing to breed, usually during April and May. If you’re lucky, you might spot a tell-tale sign of their presence: a circular patch of flattened grass where a snake has coiled itself to soak up the warmth.

Once they’ve gathered enough heat, grass snakes begin to explore, often moving along hedgerows and ditches for cover. They’re especially drawn to ponds, where they hunt amphibians, small fish, and even moorhen chicks. Their movement is stealthy, and they make the most of natural features to remain hidden from predators and prey alike.
Interestingly, grass snakes don’t all roam the same distances. Some may stick to small areas of just half a hectare, while others have been recorded covering territories as large as 33 hectares. Females tend to be larger than males and take on the important task of egg-laying in early summer.
Between June and July, female grass snakes lay clutches of 10 to 40 eggs, often choosing warm, damp spots such as rotting vegetation piles or garden compost heaps, especially those rich in grass clippings. These warm environments act as natural incubators. By late summer, the eggs hatch, and tiny juvenile snakes begin their journey into the wild.
So next time you’re near a sunny hedgerow or a quiet pond, keep an eye out, you might just catch a glimpse of this remarkable, secretive reptile going about its seasonal rituals.
Remember to record your amphibian and reptile sightings on our free Dragon Finder App.













Number 148 in Collins’s famous New Naturalist series (started by E.B. Ford’s Butterflies in 1945) is published this spring as Jeremy Biggs & Penny Williams’s Ponds, Pools and Puddles. This is not the first New Naturalist to deal with freshwater habitats and their wildlife: among others, there have been Macan & Worthington’s Life in Lakes and Rivers (1951), Moss on Lakes, Loughs and Lochs (2015), Corbet, twice, on dragonflies, and three accounts of the UK’s herpetofauna (Smith, 1951; Frazer,1983; and Beebee & Griffiths, 2000). However, this is the first to focus on the multitudes of smaller bodies of freshwater. As the authors make clear, the book has been long in the writing: Sir Alister Hardy, author of two New Naturalists on The Open Sea (1956; 1959) had agreed to write on ponds, but had only written one chapter on his death in 1985. Biggs and Williams took on the task about 15 years ago and agreed to retain Hardy’s proposed title. The further delay in completing the book has been due mainly to their time-consuming efforts to establish their NGO, the Freshwater Habitats Trust (formerly Pond Conservation), and also to the scale of the task.
It is thought the death of frogs overwintering in ponds is likely caused by a lack of oxygen in the water as sunlight is unable to reach plants and algae, making them unable to photosynthesise and oxygenate the water. Another theory is that gases are expelled by dead plant matter within the pond as it decomposes which are blocked from escaping into the air via the surface of the water. This may lead to a deadly build up of these toxic gases, causing ‘winterkill.