A prettily marked red sided garter snake in eastern OK.
Although to some degree all of the 12 subspecies of the common garter snake, Thamnophis sirtalis, are variable in color and pattern, overall some subspecies are more colorful than others. The red-sided garter snake, T. s. parietalis, of our plains states (and far northward into Canada) are consistently more colorful than some others. But in keeping with the variability of the species, some have bright red bars on the side while on others (especially on old individuals) the red may be seen only on the interstitial skin. Those that Jake and I recently photographed in Kansas ran the gamut of color variations. Old friends to me, this subspecies was a lifer for Jake. All, no matter the color, were welcome.

Aquatic plants provided food and seclusion for these turtles.

The 2 subspecies of the Trachemys dorbigni, are the southernmost of the red-eared slider group. The northernmost, T. d. braziliensis, occurs in various waterways in northern and central Brazil while the southernmost form, T. d. dorbignyi, occurs in southern Brazil, Uruguay, and northern Argentina. Where the ranges meet intergradation occurs.

Both subspecies are green as hatchlings and juveniles. The green persists the longer on the northern subspecies but, dulls to olive or brown on the southern race. Facial striping is also different on the two, with the northern subspecies having a broad red ear-stripe and the southern having a narrow yellow to orange stripe.

The few that I have had have been very much like typical pet-trade red ears in all respects. The hatchlings and juveniles ate all manner of prepared turtle chow, but seemed especially fond of the floating pond fish pellets fed daily to the goldfish with which they shared the pond. As they grew these slider added aquatic plants of many types to their dietary preferences.

While the babies were shy, paddling furiously to the seclusion of the floating plants, the adults were less inclined to do so.

Although this big eastern diamondback initially coiled when we surprised each other, It soon continued slowly across the road.
The diamondback in front of the car was unhappy. It had emerged from the grassy expanse on my left and made it unchallenged halfway across the road when along came I. Swerving back and forth in a futile attempt to avoid the numerous potholes that stretched in front of me, I was just a few feet from the big rattler before I noticed it.

I had been carefully checking out fallen pines along a shaded roadway and by the time I had reached the road’s end had, for my efforts, found beneath the snags 2 fair-sized scarlet kingsnakes, Lampropeltis triangulum elapsoides.

Having checked obvious herp hideouts on the way in, I was going a bit faster while leaving. When I saw the big diamondback, Crotalus adamanteus, I slammed on the brakes and stopped a mere 4 feet from it. The snake came to the same conclusion as I—this was much too close for either of us—so I backed up a bit.

Despite never slowing its crossing, the snake assumed a typical diamondback defense stance, a position that said as plainly as possible “back off buddy. I’ll go my way and you go yours.”

Which we both did.

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.

In February, with temperatures still in the mid-40s, Florida green water snakes were basking and breeding.
My target on that seasonably warm mid-February morning was Florida round-tailed muskrats. In the 3 hours I spent scanning the marsh, discounting the underwater activities of the little rodents, the total number of muskrats seen was a resounding zero. But the day was far from wasted, for atop the many muskrat lodges a major courtship and mating game was being played out—by Florida green water snakes, Nerodia floridana. The morning air temperature, a sunny and rapidly warming 45F (water temps, although not measured, were undoubtedly many degrees warmer), were adequate for the snakes to seek the dry basking areas. It seemed a near invariable that the females emerged from the water first but each was soon followed by one or more males.

Now, about a month later, the females, now gravid and noticeably heavier in girth, continue their daily basking but the males are more actively foraging. If the gestating females successfully avoid/evade the bitterns, egrets, and great blue herons, there should be a banner crop of neonates late this spring. I’ll keep you posted.

This Cuban giant toad was active near our motel.
It was 10PM and I was strolling around the hotel at Playa Giron in Cuba’s Cienega Zapata, wearing a headlamp, just as if I knew what I was doing. In reality I knew only that it was dark and that in this general area there lived a giant toad known to us as Peltophryne peltacephalus (pelta = shield, cephalus = head), that I’ll just refer to as the Cuban giant toad. I was as unsure of even a large bufonid being active in Cuba’s extended drought as I was of the legalities of strolling between the cabins of the hotel. But perseverance paid off. About a half mile from the office eyeshine drew me to a hand-sized toad sitting quietly on a sun-dried lawn. And when I neared the hotel office I lucked into 2 others, an adult and a juvenile. As it turned out this was the only amphibian species found on the trip. But I hope to be returning during the rainy season (July) to look up additional anuran taxa on this friendly, neighboring island. An extensive trip is in the planning. Wish us luck.