On Ponds and Frogs

'Tis the Season for Cottonmouths

Agkistrodon piscivorus. Near Perdido Bay, Escambia County, Florida. October 2015. Nikon D3000.

I thought I'd look back through the years and post a few things on my blogs from Octobers gone-by. This photo was taken bright and early the morn of October 17th, 2015, at West Campus. I used to hitch rides out to West Campus, a piece of Pensacola Christian College's land out on Perdido Bay, whenever I could. It was a struggle to find someone who would take me at all and sometimes quite costly, but I had to get into the bush to maintain my sanity.
Scrolling through my old photos from October 2015, I selected this one to show you because it seems that late September and early October is the best time to see cottonmouths. I've already seen several in the last two weeks, mostly neonates (juveniles) and I haven't even been looking.
It's a nice picture simply because the snake is mouth-open, characteristic of the threat display for this species. For those of you who would like to be specific: Agkistrodon piscivorus. Escambia County, Florida. October 2015. Nikon D3000.

Lizards at Garcon Point - May 21

I did a bit of herping out at Garcon Point Nature Trail in the spring so here are some of the more notable photos. I also saw a couple snakes: common garters, racers, and ribbon snakes, but I didn't get any pictures that made the cut.

Not a lizard but: This salmon-coloured moth was completely delightful, fluttering around the shrubbery. The wildflower display in this park, particularly in the fall, attracts and arsenal of insects, particularly butterflies and moths. Side note: I was nearly transported to heaven in a cloud of deer flies.

A large male broad-headed skink. In the breeding season, the heads turn a magnificent red colour.

A juvenile broad-headed skink... I think. It's rather difficult to tell some of the Eumeces species apart. This, and the above photo, could just as easily be a five-lined skink, since I certainly do not have the differences nailed down. However, both these lizards seem to have five labial (upper lip) scales rather than four, which would mean they are both broad-headed skinks, not five-lined.

Getting Close to Cottonmouths

Field Notes from October 17, 2015

Agkistrodon piscivorous near Perdido Bay, Florida on October 17, 2015.

It was a cool, autumn day in the panhandle of Florida State. A red sail on the water moved up Perdido Bay with the breeze as I blinked in the sunlight from under my felt hat. An early morning to check my minnow traps at West Campus provided me with a single, small sunfish. It was a male, so I wasn't sure it would get on well with my larger specimen back home in the tank. Oh, well. I chanced it.

With the fish comfortably settled into a bucket in my passenger seat, I set out for a bit of herping around the ponds. I started at the old bridge and work along the shore, closest to Perdido Bay. My snake tongs poked in and out of the grass and I followed a small clearing into the shallow water around the edge of the pond. Autumn rain meant the ponds were swollen and I took a moment to explore the soggy grass and ephemeral pools.

I spotted a dark brown striped pattern in the water and my tongs dove into the water to recover a young adult cottonmouth.

Agkistrodon piscivorous is a semiaquatic pitviper closely related to rattlesnakes and its venom works in a similar way. Although highly cytotoxic and hemorrhagic, the venom of the cottonmouth isn't as damaging to blood cells as that of rattlesnakes. Adults pack over 1000mg of venom but it would only take 150mg to kill me. Cottonmouths kill almost one person per year and I don't intend to be a statistic.

For ease of movement, I cautiously lifted the snake with my tongs and slid it into my snake bag. Moving into an open field near the Perdido Bay shoreline, I emptied the contents onto the mowed grass. He was grumpy. I snapped several pictures of the perturbed reptile as it spastically threw its white mouth open in a threatening defensive gesture. It made very interesting photographs and my Nikon clicked away for about 15 minutes. As the snake calmed, I was more comfortable getting a little closer for some portraiture.

Suddenly, I noticed I had an audience. Some college staff had paused from their work across the field and were staring. Because you can never be too sure how friendly people are toward snakes, I bagged the viper again and returned him to the swamp.

Agkistrodon piscivorous near Perdido Bay, Florida on October 17, 2015.

With a prayer of thanks to God for the beauty of His creation and the exhilarating experience, I meandered over to where the two men were pounding stakes and tried to start a conversation.

"How many you catch?" called one of the men as I approached.

"A few," I said, "but only one today."

"I guess you took care of that one," said one of the men. I knew what that meant.

"Actually," I said, "there's no reason to kill 'em. They usually have great dispositions and only want to avoid people."

He sneered. "Not all the snakes I've seen! They'll attack."

Only when you're trying to hack they're head off, I thought.

"I kill every one I see," he informed me indiscriminately.

"I figured." There was an awkward pause as my disapproving glare communicated the meaning of my reply. They got back to work and I shuffled off, a little disgruntled at how selfish and disregarding most people are toward wildlife.

On the other side of the pond I started seeing ground skinks.

Scincella lateralis are extremely common in Florida but not often noticed. They push headlong through the forest detritus looking for spiders and other little invertebrates to devour. Catching these can be a delicate matter. They are very small lizards and most of the ones I've found are under 7 centimeters in length. They don't even use their diminutive legs when they have to move fast.

Besides the skinks, I also spotted a curious black wasp, about 2.5 centimeters long, scurrying around in the leaflitter. I'm not sure what species of wasp it was but it seemed to be searching for spiders or insects in the cracks of the ground.

Hymenoptera near Perdido Bay, Florida on October 17, 2015.

Scincella lateralis near Perdido Bay, Florida on October 17, 2015.

A little farther along, at the far north end of the ponds, I spotted a ribbon snake (Thamnophis sauritus) slithering among the aquatic vegetation. I spent a considerable amount of time splashing around in the shallows trying to find that snake but, alas, I failed. In denial about my loss, I stood on the shore as motionless as I could staring at the water plants were I'd last seen the snake. I hoped it would reappear. Suddenly, some movement in the water to my right caught my attention. A large turtle cautiously poked its nose through the algae. For a long time, I contemplated my plant to catch the turtle. For a moment I vacillated waiting for the snake. I thought maybe I could catch both, but that would be greedy. I dropped my snake tongs and clumsily splashed through the water toward the turtle. It didn't move. It didn't even flinch. It never saw me coming. A miracle. I scooped the startled testudine out of the water and set all four of its scratching, flailing legs on the shore. Apparently, it was missing its right eye. So it really never did see me. It was a very large (about 35cm-long carapace) yellow-bellied slider (Trachemys scripta scripta).

Curiously, about four years back I had caught a snapping turtle the same way, in the same place, which was also missing an eye (the left one). Both turtles had a cataract.

After some photos, I released the turtle back into the wild and meandered back to my van.

Trachemys scripta scripta near Perdido Bay, Florida on October 17, 2015.

Cape Scott: Summer 2014

As you all know, I was very busy in Indiana doing an internship last summer. However, I did fit in some interesting activities around back home.

The above photograph is a chiton. They are a kind of mollusk all their own. At first glance, it looks like a cross between a slug and crocodile. Watch for future posts on the intertidal zone in the next couple months.
The black-and-white of me standing under the sedimentary rocks and the fossils under one arm was taken at a logging road-side fossil site.

The gnarled roots and trunk of this cedar growing from the base of a fir is characteristic of the west coast. After looking through these pictures, I can't help but think, Vancouver Island is a paradise. Cool winters, cool summers, and scenery more jaw-dropping than anywhere else in North America. I'm biased of course. The young robin in my hands below, in case you were wondering, was standing in the middle of the road. I think he might have been hit by a car but, besides seeming a little week, he seemed fine. I released off the road. His parents were near by.
Speaking of birds, I'm at 148 for my life list right now, but haven't really been trying as of late.
Far above I have a couple photographs of an interesting hand-like branch. It's actually the result of a parasitic plant called dwarf mistletoe. It grows inside the tissues of the evergreen and can get so large at times that the limb can break right off.

Birding for the Faint of Heart

Things have been busy rapping up the last weeks of my internship, but I wanted to update everyone on my life list status. Since my last post on birdwatching, I've got ten new species. Unfortunately, many of my pictures from my field notes are not ready to be posted but in the near future, I hope to offer a more complete picture of my time spent in Indiana. Until then, here are the new birds for the list:

Unfortunately, we've all seen this picture before. I should have new

pictures for posts coming in the near future.

132: Wild Turkey - I rather enjoyed encountering these strange birds. The first time I saw them was about eight years ago or more near Yellowstone National Park. A few of them were in the distance as we drove past an opening in a forest by the highway. It was a fleeting glimpse. This summer, I saw several more on the side of the railway tracks from South Bend to Chicago. Most recently, one was seen at Indiana Dunes State Park on the 27th of July. Walking down a closed boardwalk (due to flooding) I heard something rustling in the brush along the edge of the swamp. I crouched for a closer look and determined that some creature with a bushy face was crawling out from under a pine tree. Its rear end emerged and a long curved tail spun around. Of course, I'd been looking at it backwards--the tail was its neck and head. They are strange but beautiful birds.

133: Red-headed Woodpecker - On a suburban road near the Tippecanoe River. Startlingly brilliant.

134: Tree Swallow - Also at the Tippecanoe, swooping low over the water, often juveniles, either practicing flight, playing games, or catching insects. Undoubtedly the adults were after mayflies or the like.

135: Black-billed Cuckoo - Skulking around the lakes at Notre Dame. Cuckoos have always struck me as very exotic, as I mentioned in a post when I saw the yellow-billed species.

136: Tufted Titmouse - Also at the Notre Dame lakes, these birds were much larger than I expected.

137: Rose-breasted grosbeak - My final trip to Potato Creek State Park turned up three new species for my list, including this one, seen at a bird feeder outside the nature center.

138: Eastern Phoebe - Seen hunting invertebrates above the trail in Potato Creek's forest canopy.

139: White-eyed Vireo - A family of these birds was seen off of one of the trails at Potato Creek State Park.

140: American Black Duck - Undoubtedly, many of the "mallards" at Notre Dame are actually American black ducks, I only just noticed them now.

141: Snowy Egret - I thought it was a great egret at first but, on closer inspection, it was certainly too small for that.

Birding Update: Now 131 Species!

Yellow-throated vireos are gorgeous, eh?

Amazing that this, of all years, would be the one I chose to do a little Big Year. Without birding as my primary purpose I've dodged back and forth from the two farthest corners of the continent. From the Pacific northwest to the southeast and back. Well, now my pursuit of biology as a career has brought me to the midwest, under the Great Lake Michigan. My list is rising rapidly and I have a good feeling about making it to 150. Maybe I should raise the bar to 200, eh?

Bird 123: Sandhill Crane on May 28th
Although this bird was only seen for a fleeting moment as it flew over a farmers field on a tile drain water sampling trip for my ecology internship, it made a great impression. It seemed to be suffering under the constant and determined harassment of a blackbird. Why a blackbird would have any reason to give a gentle crane a hard time I haven't any idea. I only very rarely see cranes in the wild, and they always seem to be high in the sky flying in formation. I love they way they fly with their necks outstretched. Very unlike herons and egrets which fly with and S-curve in their necks.

Bird 124: Black-crowned Night-heron on May 29th

I think if I was a female yellow-throated
vireo, I'd be all over this guy.
He's a beauty!

I'll be honest; I didn't expect to see this bird so far north. Last time I saw night-herons it was in a hot muggy Texas swamp. He did seem a little out of place; at a suburban lake putting up with a lot of human foot traffic and noise from some kind of giant generator on the lakeshore of the University of Notre Dame. When I entered this bird into my list on eBird, they notified me it was a rare bird for that area, but I double-checked my pictures and there can be no doubt that it is a black-crowned night-heron.

Bird 125: Chipping Sparrow on May 29th
This is one of those birds you hear a lot about from different people and I kind of thought I would see one long before now. There were a couple under a young hardwood of some kind on the lawn of one of the academic building's on Notre Dame's campus near the lakes. It's about time I saw a sparrow besides the introduced house sparrows which are all over campus.

Bird 126: Chimney Swift on May 30th
Another American classic. I have seen several of these darting around the campus skies.

Bird 127: White-breasted Nuthatch on May 30th
I kind of thought that this bird was already on my list somewhere, but there is no record of it in eBird so I must just be remembering last year. Nuthatches are some of my favourite birds; they bounce around tree trunks and limbs with no regard for gravity. I don't think it matters to them which side is up.

Bird 128: Yellow-throated Vireo on May 30th
Another one nailed at the lakes on campus at Notre Dame. First time EVER that I've been able to identify a vireo positively to the species. I'm getting better at this.

Bird 129: Orchard Oriole on May 30th
Actually, eBird doesn't know it, but I saw this bird about four minutes before the vireo, so they should really swap numbers. Anyways, it was a pretty rough looking young male of its species. Kind of frazzled and obsessed with preening. Just like a teenager.

Wood ducks are always a pleasant find and there must be
3 or 4 pairs of them living on the lakes at Notre Dame.

Bird 130: American Woodcock on June 1st
Flushed out of the bush Sunday evening when I went looking for deer off trail in Potato Creek State Park. One deer. The woodcock might have been a bonus but I am fascinated by these woodland sandpipers and, if I'd known it was there in the first place, I would have sneaked more lightly to perhaps see some behaviour of this shy bird.

Bird 131: Yellow Warbler on June 1st
I didn't even realize that this was a new bird for my list. I've seen yellow warblers before and I figured they were already on my list. However, this was the first time this year I'd seen one, eBird informed me. I'm happy about that because it puts me over 130. Now I have to get to 150. Things have been to good to let down my search. I have a haunch that I will make it to 200 if I'm aggressive.

Stream Ecology Field Work

As an intern at University of Notre Dame, I am privileged to opportunities I only dreamed were possible. Last Wednesday on the 28th, I lived out one of these dreams as a field ecologist, monitoring the water quality of streams and ditches throughout the farmland west of South Bend, Indiana. Enjoy the pictures.

The area around our was itself composed primarily of cornfields (and one particularly notable chicken house with giant fans on its external blowing chicken poop and flies all over our faces). Some of the streams running through these agricultural fields have been restructured. In the photo on the left, you are looking at the shelves that have been dug out and planted with grass.

This mimics a more natural stream bank and the grasses help absorb some of the excess nutrients and pollutants that run off the field's tile drains.
On the right is a picture of the ecologists I was working with. Closest, a conductivity meter is used to determine the conductivity and temperature of the water exiting the tile drains. Conductivity of the water is an indicator of the water's purity. Bellow, a Flowmate is used to record the discharge of the stream. By recording the depth and velocity of the water every 5 or 10 cm, the discharge of the stream as a whole is calculated.

Yes, as far as I can tell, all ecologists are very friendly people. Not to mention they apparently like to wear matching uniforms. I'm looking forward to the next field trip when I'm invited along.
Below is the evidence that I still become distracted when wildlife presents itself. This was a baby snapping turtle that I instantly fell in love with. There were a couple different species of frog, including leopard frogs, living in the streams that provided mild distractions. More intriguing were the small swimming mammals which I believe to be moles. Besides the baby snapping turtle a box turtle was found near a forest edge at the farthest reaches of one of our streams. Beautiful animal.