The dwarf salamander ranges from Texas to North Carolina and southern Florida.
It wasn’t crossing the road. It was lying quietly parallel with the yellow line and it was only 1 ¼ “ in length with a diameter hardly greater than a broom straw. It was a newly metamorphosed dwarf salamander, Eurycea quadridigitata. It was probably the smallest salamander that Jake or I had ever road hunted, and yes, I still wonder how either of us, never mind both of us, ever saw this creature that looked upon closer inspection like nothing more than a fine crack in the pavement?

Having an average adult length of 2 ¾ to 3 ¼ inches (and a record length just a hair over 3 ½ inches), at its largest the dwarf salamander is aptly named. As currently described this is probably a species complex. It is a salamander of southeastern swamplands and is small enough to hide beneath even tiny pieces of vegetative debris.

In keeping with its swampland habitat, this is a dark colored salamander. The dorsum is lighter than the sides, often bears a vague herringbone pattern and is divided by a narrow, dark, vertebral stripe that may be continuous or broken, and usually shades to a yellowish or sometimes orange color with no stripe on the tail. A dark dorsolateral stripe is present on each side. The sides and venter are grayish. There are only 4 toes on each foot.
I assure you that it was for the possibility of seeing other herp species that we had travelled to Florida’s Panhandle, but the finding of this little dwarf among dwarves was certainly noteworthy.

An adult male Florida gopher frog.
Living in a region where a goodly number of anurans exist has its herpetological ups and downs. The ups are that on almost any rainy night throughout the year we can see or hear some species of frog, toad, or treefrog. The downs are that to find some species we have to brave the chilly nights and cooler waters (remember, we are Floridian wimps!) of seasons other than midsummer. But, when we do tailor our searches a bit and search out cool weather species, we may find the gopher frog, Rana capito aesopus, a localized and secretive taxon that awaits heavy rains and flooding conditions to begin its breeding sequence.

And so it was on this night. It had rained, poured, rained, then misted all day and Jake decided this was the night when gopher frogs would be active. The problem was, he hadn’t cleared this with the gopher frogs. But Jake swore that that if I would just get him to where the frogs were he WOULD NOT come back to the car without a picture. So we headed westward to visit a known gopher frog locale.

When we arrived it was almost dark, it WAS windy, and it was cool. We could hear no gophers from the road so we, in shorts and flipflops, clawed and shoved our way through 100 feet of brambles and thorny shrubs to pond edge. By this time it was cold, windy and moonlit. But guess what? Gophers WERE singing. We got to the water and I said something to the effect of "they're here, they're singing, go get 'em Jake." His response was "ummmmmm--I forgot my camera."

By now the frogs were calling loudly so I suggested that Jake go and at least find one so he could add it to his life list. He went. I stood and shivered. Jake got 1/4 way across the pond and the frogs stopped singing. Jake stood. One frog called. Jake, sounding like a dyspeptic porcupine, produced an answering snore. Lo, the frog called again. Jake stalked s-l-o-w-l-y towards it. It was now a contest of whether the pond would evaporate or the frog would die from old age before he got to the calling site.

OK, so you've got the idea by now. The trip was a washout. Frogs 10. Jake and me, zero. But we had fun, and later that year, on a warmer and even rainier night, we were more successful. Jake got his photos.

All brown, brown and green, or green are all common color variation of the Caatinga horned frog.
When the death of a pet occurs it is disturbing. When the death of a healthy pet occurs it is infinitely more disturbing. And this latter occurred a while ago when my male Caatinga horned frog, Ceratophrys joazierensis, was killed by my female during a breeding attempt.

There is always a chance of such things happening when cannibalistic frog meets cannibalistic frog, but this surprised for vocalizations had led to amplexus and I was reasonably sure that all was well in the rain chamber. But this time I was wrong. For some reason amplexus was discontinued, and the female turned, grasped the male by one hind leg and faster than I could intercede swallowed the male to midbody. By then I had them in hand, pried her jaws open, released the male (who at that time seemed none the worse for that harrowing experience) and separated the pair.

But despite there being no outward sign of the aggression something detrimental had happened to the male because from that day, until his death 2 weeks later, he simply sat in one spot (not unusual for a horned frog) and he never again ate (very unusual for a horned frog).

Since that time I have been looking for a replacement male. I know this taxon has been bred in captivity so there are some out there somewhere. But until now I have neither seen nor heard of any being available. But I’ll keep looking…

A beautiful adult Basin emerald.
It seems it always happens this way. For about 20 years, on innumerable trips to Amazonian Peru, I and those who have travelled with me, have searched long and hard for what is considered by many the gem of the Amazonian rainforests, the Basin emerald tree boa, Corallus batesii.

Stated as succinctly as possible, despite the thousands of search-hours spent, we failed. We found 150 other species of herps, but when it came to the emerald, pure and simple, we failed. Years passed and this year (2015) I elected to retire. A few weeks after having done so, friend, Kenny (a biologist and geneticist) decided that he’d like to research the wildlife of what had become our major preserve, Santa Cruz Forest Preserve on the Rio Mazan in Amazonian Peru. He and his family moved to the preserve for a year long stint.

Four months into it Kenny texted me “You retired too soon” and attached a pic of the coveted emerald tree boa. It seems that Kenny, accompanied by his wife, Maria, and a village youngster, Cain, by name, were taking an evening stroll along the main trail when, only a few meters from the compound, Cain noticed the snake. It was hanging head downward, nose only a few inches from the leaf litter of the forest floor, in a small tree only a foot or so from trail edge. Kenny’s correct. I retired a few months too soon.

Still with well defined facial markings, this black-breasted leaf turtle is about a quarter grown.
Have you ever wanted to kick yourself in the butt for getting rid of a particular herp or for passing by the opportunity to purchase a given species. On several occasions I have done both and regretted it for a long time after.

For example, I regret not acquiring a photo of the Javan tubercled or dragon snakes when they were being offered. It is true that they have proven difficult (read that impossible) to keep as captives but there has to be a key to that problem somewhere.

Of the herps that I am most upset at allowing myself to be talked out of was and still is my 2 pairs of black-breasted leaf turtles, Geomyda spengleri spengleri.

There are several Asiatic turtle species of which I am fond, several members of the genus Cuora among them, but IMO none compare with this little leaf turtle.

This is not because of color. This leaf turtle is a variable but often dingey brown above with very pronounced posterior carapacial serrations. The yellow(ish) rimmed plastron is mostly black. The skin is also brown with the only noticeable highlight being the stark white irides of the protuberant eyes.

So, if it’s not color what is it about these four inch long Asian turtles that is so enchanting? One word—personality. Once acclimated this turtle, naturally alert, quickly becomes tame-- actually outgoing—and seems contemplative. It reminds me in more ways than one of our little bog turtle but outdoes the boggy in each aspect…

Time to close. I’ve almost talked myself into another purchase.

Many McGregor's pit vipers are strongly patterned.
This is another of today’s choose your name species. This beautiful and variable pit viper from the Philippine islands of Batan and Sabtang (perhaps introduced to other locales) has gone from its 1913 described name of Trimeresurus mcgregori (named for the collector of the first specimen who just happened to receive and survive a bite) to Trimeresrus flavomaculatus mcgregori, then to Parias mcgregori, and now back to the starting name, T. mcgregori.

This is one of the more variably colored pit vipers, ranging from solid brown to a pure silvery white and having many shades of yellow and a few differing patterns between those 2 extremes. It is adult at about 3 feet in length. It is an oviparous species.

Protected in its Philippine homeland and the relatively few captives having proven problematic to breed, this beautiful pit viper is not a frequently seen species in collections. As would be expected, when on the rare occasions this taxon does become available, the prices asked are often out of range for all but the most dedicated of venomous keepers.

The old standby, Wagler's viper, Tropidolaemus wagleri, Thailand.
A decade or so ago, the Wagler’s viper, Tropidolaemus wagleri, once thought to be just a very variable snake species, was determined to actually be a species complex. Researchers have now elevated several of what were long considered simply geographic or color variants of the Wagler’s viper to full species status. This has, of course, rendered the Wagler’s viper, itself, much less variable, but definitely no less interesting.

Besides T. wagleri of Thailand and West Malaysia the genus now contains:

Hutton’s pit viper, T. huttoni (a poorly known species from southern India)

Mindanao pit viper, T. philippinensis (a genetically separable Wagler’s viper lookalike from Mindanao)

Keeled green pit viper. T. subannulatus of the Philippines and Borneo (as described, possibly a species complex)

Broad-banded temple pit viper, T. laticinctus, of Sulawesi.

The alternate name of temple viper (applied to at least 2 of the species) seems to have originated due to the abundance of T. wagleri near the Temple of the Azure Cloud in Malaya.

If you search old literature or Google the species, you will undoubtedly see photos of people, old and young alike, often near the Temple of the Azure Cloud, holding Wagler’s vipers barehandedly. In my opinion this is unwise in the extreme. Admittedly this snake, nocturnal by nature, is relatively placid and reluctant to bite in the daylight hours. They are far less apt to allow indiscriminate handling after dark. It is to the best interests of all herpers (and especially yourself) that you not become an expensive and controversial snakebite statistic.

The supraocular areas of this northern Colombian boa baby are barely darkened.
For many decades Colombian boas, Boa constrictor imperator, were a major component in the American pet trade. In fact, they were the dominant and least expensive subspecies available. I purchased my first baby Colombian boa back in the early 1950s from Quivira Specialties Company in Topeka, Kansas. It cost me $4.65 plus postage. Yep—that was 4 dollars and 65 cents. You could buy a “red-tailed” boa for a couple of bucks more but they were less readily available and why would one need a boa with a redder tail that that borne by the Colombian (actually imperator is found from northern Mexico to northwestern South America) subspecies anyway?

What is a B. c. imperator? The call is pretty much made by the shape of the dark head marking. On this subspecies the longitudinal central marking ostensibly had a lateral projection to each eye. In reality the lateral projections could vary from well-defined to nearly absent. They were often represented by the supraocular scales being darkened but not connected to the longitudinal central mark. These projections are lacking on the more southerly forms. The red of the tail of imperator may vary from blackish-red in northern Mexico to dusty red in northern Colombia.

Boas, escaped or deliberately released, were known to have been established in South Florida since the 1960s. They were and are largely restricted to a small area of Miami. Of variable appearance. Some have the head markings and pale red tails that define the northern Colombian boas while others lack even vestiges of the horizontal head projections and have rich red tails suggesting a more southerly origin.

And since I recently lost all pix of Miami boas when a hard drive crashed, I guess it’s time to try my luck once more.

This captive pair of giant whiptails lived for several years.
Seemingly first reported in 1995, this beautiful sun worshipper, Aspidoscelis motaguae, had by then probably been established in Florida for at least 20 years. Strangely, although I recall several other teeids (even the seldom imported little 4-toed whiptail, Teius teyou) figuring prominently in the American pet trade, the mention of A. motaguae brings back no memories at all. That this species has now been present for decades in several small Miami-Dade County populations indicates that it figured to a greater or lesser degree in the inventories of some importers.

A beautifully colored lizard, males of the the giant whiptail attain a total length of 13 inches. Females are smaller and a bit less colorful. Males are olive-slate on the upper sides. This shades to gold dorso-anteriorly and to blue ventrolaterally. Gold flecks are liberally scattered over the dorsum. The flecks become white and elongate to vertical bars ventrolaterally. Although certainly not flamboyant, the colors and patterns of this lizard are pretty and memorable.

The eytomology of the scientific name commemorates the upper Motagua Valley of Guatemala, a portion of the natural range of the giant whiptail. Overall the lizard ranges southward from Oaxaca, MX to Guatemala, Honduras and adjacent Nicaragua, and El Salvador.

Like many, if not most, other teiids, the giant whiptail is omnivorous. Although its diet leans strongly toward invertebrates, it also readily consumes blossoms and berries.

This is an adult female northern brown basilisk.
I was totally enthralled when, some 25 years ago, I saw my first northern brown basilisk, Basiliscus vittatus, in Florida. I had been told that they were then tenuously established, but until then I had not seen one. The fact that the example that was then in front of me, resting quietly but attentively on a blade of grass overhanging a canal, was a hatchling disclosed that at least one pair of breeders could not be too far away. Although I did not find additional examples on that trip, when, a few weeks later I again visited South Florida, I happened upon a number of these intriguing lizards of all size classes in Miami-Dade’s Tropical Park

Today (2016) this 2 foot long lizard with the cranial crest (males) and strongly defined vertebral and mid-caudal ridge are locally distributed in Palm Beach and Martin counties are now common in Broward and Miami-Dade counties.

The predominant color is brown. Yellow facial and dorsolateral stripes (the latter best defined anteriorly) are usually easily visible. A second yellow stripe, sometimes interrupted, parallels the upper jaw line and continues rearward to the shoulder. Darker crossbands, best defined above the uppermore yellow stripes may be present. Females are smaller than the males, lack the cranial crest but do have a lobe on the back of the head and the stripes are more faded or even absent. Both sexes will be darkest and most poorly marked when cold, at night, or when frightened.

Insects, small frogs and other lizards, form the diet of these pet trade lizards. The species native range is from northeastern Mexico to northern Colombia.

The pale yellow dewlap is a hallmark of this anole species.
Anolis cybotes cybotes, is known as the large-headed anole (aka largehead anole when the writer is too lazy to put in a hyphen and add two letters). Males, the larger sex, can attain a robust 8 ½ inches while the females are seldom more than 6 inches in length. This large size (for an anole) places this Hispaniolan species firmly in the position of 2nd largest anole in the USA, being

exceeded in size only by the comparatively immense knight anole, A. e. equestris. The large-headed anole (the head of adult males is noticeably enlarged) is a brown species, sometimes pale brown, sometimes rich, often darkest vertebrally, and equally often with a very pale (sometimes greenish) lateral stripe on each side. The stripe may be thick, thin, or absent and may or may not be outlined with a narrow edging of darker pigment. The male’s dewlap is pale yellow to pale gray.

The large-headed anole has been established in Florida since 1967. The first introduction was deliberate as was one in 1986. Pet trade escapees are probably responsible for several other small populations.The lizard is no longer present at the original release site but continues to exist in relatively small numbers at several newer locales. It is at one of these latter that Jake and I often stop to get our periodic “cybotes-fix.” (by the way, the species name is pronounced ki-boat-ees, not sigh-boat-ees). And sure enough, they were there.

A small population, before we left Jake and I were both speculating that it may soon become even smaller for perched quietly on an upright tree trunk we spied a 14 inch long knight anole as well. This latter looked fat and healthy and since lizards figure prominently in the diet of the knight anole we pondered whether this population of large-headed anoles would soon become even smaller?

I guess we’ll know after a couple of future checks.

The green and black color of this beautiful newt blend well with the aquatic vegetation.
Newts, a subset of salamanders in the family Salamandridae, may be found in both the New and Old Worlds. The males of many of the Old World taxa develop nuptial finery (seasonally present and often exaggerated caudal, nuchal, and vertebral finnage) that, no matter the season, no New World species ever has.

And of these Old World salamandrid dandies, IMO one of the most beautiful is the black on forest green (more rarely the black may predominate) marbled newt, Triturus marmoratus, of Spain, Portugal, and France.

Black on green may sound flamboyant, and indeed it is when seen in a home terrarium or aquarium. But when at home in the dappled sunlight and submerged vegetation of a woodland pond, the color combination is a surprisingly effective camouflage.
Although high and very noticeable the even-edged black and green banded vertebral and caudal finnage of this large (it attains a stocky 4 ½ - 6”) newt is less ornate that that of several of its cousins. The nuptial fins of these latter are prettily scalloped. But what the marbled newt lacks in fin appearance is more than compensated for by beauty of color. And as just a bit of added splendor, when, following the breeding season the fins of the marbled newt are resorbed, they remain represented by an orange middorsal ridge. Can you say “pretty?”

This is a gravid female bronze frog at the edge of out pool.
Plunk, plunk, plunk. Hmmmm. Where’d they come from?

The calls were obviously those of bronze frogs, Rana c. clamitans, the southern and nominate form of the more northerly green frog. Bronze or green, the calls are the same—plunks best likened to the sound made while tuning a loose banjo string. And these calls were coming from what I felt was an unlikely place…

During our many year drought, when no ephemeral pools contained water, Patti and I decided that the southern toads in our yard needed a breeding puddle. So we bought a 20 foot square of pliable PVC, dug a slope-sided excavation about 15” deep in the center, laid in the liner, filled it with water from the hose, and sprinkled dirt over all of the liner that remained exposed. IOW, our intended toad pool was simple in the extreme. We threw in a few aquarium plants, sat back and waited to see if the toads would accept the new water filled hole.

They did. First in small numbers but then from the chorus it seemed that all in the yard converged there—and within weeks we had hundreds of toadlets. Then a few green treefrogs found the pool. Next came southern leopard frogs, dragonflies, and all manner of aquatic insects. And then for years nothing new seemed to find the pool—until a couple of months ago when those plunking notes told me we had new arrivals.

I was glad they were there but wondered then and still do, where these bronze frogs, a species pretty firmly tied to vegetated pond and swamp edges, had migrated from. The frogs stayed and vocalized for several weeks and then, seemingly overnight, en masse, they all disappeared.

Now I’m wondering “Where’d they go?” Did they choose a rainy night to migrate elsewhere? Was our puddle visited by an efficient raccoon? Will the bronze frogs return? Time may tell. Maybe.

This is the striped phase of the tiny greenhouse frog.
If I concentrate, on almost every warm, humid night, the twitterings and chirpings of greenhouse frogs, Eleutherodactylus planirostris, can be heard in our anuran friendly Alachua County yard. The calls are high pitched, soft, and more reminiscent of the stridulations of some cricket species than of an amphibian. In other words, it might take a dedicated effort to hear and have the tinkling notes you are hearing register as the vocalizations of a frog.

Apparently the first notice of the greenhouse frog, a West Indian species was in 1875 when it was noted in Miami-Dade County. Since then it has spread pretty much throughout the state and has been heard or found in Alabama, Georgia, southern Mississippi, southeastern Louisiana, and eastern Texas, as well. It has also been found in heated greenhouses in more northerly states.

This little reddish-tan to gray with reddish overtones frog is fully grown at from ¾ to 1 ¼ inches snout-vent length. It occurs in 2 pattern forms, a striped and a mottled.

There being no free-swimming tadpole stage this species does not require water to breed. The 6 to 26 eggs are deposited in moist leaf litter, beneath moist ground debris, in the cups or between the leaves of bromeliads, and other places that offer similar protection from predators and drying. Metamorphosis is rapid, with the tiny froglets hatching when conditions are ideal in as little as 13 days after egg deposition.
This little tiny frog eats the tiniest of insects and is not known to compete seriously with any native species. An interloper though they may be, they are always welcomed when we happen upon them.

Tiny legs having one toe each identify the one-toed amphiuma.

One minute I was standing upright on the edge of a semi-dried creek’s backwater. Then one more step I was thigh deep in soupy mud and if there hadn’t been a bank edge sapling for me to grab I’d have probably been face down in the goop. Kenny was doubled over with laughter. I didn’t know whether to try and back out or to flounder forward another step. In fact, right then I was wondering exactly why we were here. I had expected mud. Just not so quickly (read that unexpectedly) and not so deep. And I had expected to search for the target beast, a one-toed amphiuma, Amphiuma pholeter, by standing high and dry on the bank and dragging the small meshed net through the goo.

This was a colder than cool Florida day in February, and although it was nothing like a Maine winter day would have been I was uncomfortable, and knew that before I could get back in the car I had to get even more uncomfortable cleansing at least most of the mud off in the colder-than-cool fast moving stream ahead of me. Also, since I had fully intended to stay high and dry I had not brought a change of clothes with me. Well, darn it!

So let’s see now—I was in thigh deep mud that seemed to promise it was even deeper ahead of me, Kenny, dry and fairly warm, was busily scooping through the liquid mud with his net, and I had to get at least partially cleaned off. Stream, here I come.

Although I never did get to net up a one-toed amphiuma (aka mud eel) on that trip, it mattered not. While I was trying to extricate myself Kenny got a couple of the little critters, and pix were possible.

Many buff-striped keelbacks are less colorful than these.
It was back in the 1980s that I made the acquaintance of the natricid (garter, water, and related snakes) species.

Chris had received a shipment from Bangkok, and along with the cobras, kraits, and pipe snakes, was a bag identified only as “keelbacks.” Upon seeing the designation I immediately thought Rhabdophis, a keelback with a virulent toxin. But when Chris opened the bag it contained something very different—a keelback species that I didn’t recognize.

Several of the snakes were similar to each other in body color, being an olive tan (with vaguely bluish interstitial skin) and having a buff colored dorsolateral stripe along each side. The light stripe was indistinguishable on the neck but very apparent on the posterior three quarters of the snake. The heads of these were also olive-tan with black vertical interstitial markings on the upper labials. Most bore broad black bars from lower side to lower side but where the dark bars crossed the light dorsolateral stripes, the latter were markedly lighter. The black barring was most prominent anteriorly, faded posteriorly and was absent from the rear of the body and the tail.

But then there were the odd 3. On these the patterns were the same but the colors differed greatly. On these the head and neck were a rich orange. The scale sutures of the yellow upper labials were black. The ground color was rich olive tan and the dark cross barring was hardly any darker.The light stripes were buff anteriorly but shaded to a rather bright yelliow posteriorly. And trhe interstitial skin of the body was pale but definite blue.

Can you say “pretty?” I sure did, and these 3 snakes were with me for many years, thriving on a diet of ranid frogs.
Strangely, although I have since seen several shipments containing this species, I have never again seen the orange headed form. Beginner’s luck I guess.

This is a subordinate male rainbow lizard from a Miami population.
The northeastern South American country of Colombia was once the predominant shipper of neotropical wildlife to the United States. Birds of all manner (cock-of-the-rocks to parrots), mammals (wooly monkeys to ocelots to anteaters), amphibians (remember the Colombia horned frog?), reptiles (boas to red-footed tortoises, to rainbow lizards).

Rainbow lizards?

So, How Does One Accurately Describe a Rainbow Lizard?

Well, if I chose to try, describing the little 8-striped (the vertebrals strip is divided!) brownish and greenish female would not be awfully difficult. But to describe the blue, yellow, green, brown (and several hues between) of a dominant male could prove to be a chore and would probably wind up being inaccurate anyways. So, to make things easy, allow me to suggest that you determine the origin of the example in question. As it now stands the lizards making up what is currently known as Cnemidophorus lemniscatus are probably a species complex. They will differ in color and pattern at different locales. Color intensity also varies according to the status of the male within a given population. Dominant males are much more colorful than subordinate males.

So have at it. At least you’ll be more satisfied with your description of the example at hand. That’s a certainty! Oh, by the way, the lizards depicted here are from a Miami-Dade County population that probably contains genes from several Colombian origins.

Rainbow lizards, a teiid, are adult at 10-12 inches in total length. Although the primary diet is insects and other invertebrates these lizards also eat seeds, berries, and blossoms.

This is an adult female dusky ameiva in Miami.Until very recently this big lizard (to 22-24” total length, of which all but about 8” is tail length) was considered a dark (dusky) phase of the green and tan giant ameiva. A few years ago a closer look was finally taken at this impressive Central and South American teiid and it was found that rather than A. ameiva, it is actually Ameiva praesignis. At that time a common name of Borriguerro Ameiva, a long standing South American name, was suggested. However, since this lizard has long been known as the "dusky ameiva” in the USA, I suggest that this name be retained. Like the giant ameiva, the original examples in the Florida populations were shipped for the pet trade from Barranquilla, Colombia in the 1950s. Agile and fast, some escaped and were able to establish themselves in the benign climate of South Florida.

When the genus name of Ameiva is used as a common name, it is not italicized. Like other teiids (tegus and relatives) this lizard is usually active only on sunny days when it often remains active through the warmest hours. This alert and wary lizard will quickly dart into areas of dense ground cover or a home burrow if approached. Although omnivorous, this big lizard is primarily insectivorous and will dig insects from beneath the surface of the ground. Besides insects they consume all manner of small invertebrates as well as berries and other vegetation. Captives will accept pinky mice, and there is no reason to believe that those in the wild would not eat nestling mice or nestlings of ground nesting songbirds.

If kept captive this ameiva should be provided a spacious terrarium. I suggest they be provided with a brightly lit hot spot having a temperature of 110-120F. A thermal gradient having a temperature of 75F on the cool end should be provided.

A robust build and a length of 16-17 inches (including the long tail) is a typical size for an adult giant ameiva.
For well over a half century Ameivas, the large, economy size of the whiptail/racerunner clan if you prefer, have been prominent in the hobbyist reptile trade. Of the 3 dozen or so species in the genus, 2 are by far the most commonly encountered. These are the giant and the dusky ameivas. For decades the two were considered diverse color phases of the giant ameiva, Ameiva ameiva, but they are now known to be 2 entirely separate species (but more on this later). Firstly, let’s take a look at the big, very pretty, and quite common “green phase” of the giant ameiva. In fact, although the amount of green may vary, the green phase is currently the only phase of this 15 to 20 inch long teiid lizard. Despite the color reference in its name, this neotropical lizard is not entirely green. It is olive-tan anteriorly, olive-lime posteriorly, sky blue in the groin, pale blue to sky blue on the lower sides fading to bluish white ventrally. Trying to describe the positioning of the black flecks and off-white ocelli would be an exercise in futility. It is far better (and much easier) if I simply refer you to the photos.

Like most teiids, ameivas (please note that when used as a common name the word is not italicized) are sun worshippers and can often be seen basking in full sunshine during the hottest part of the day. The examples on which the Miami population is based originated (or at least were shipped) from Barranquilla, Colombia in the 1950s. They are wary lizards and if startled will quickly retire to areas of ground vegetation or a home burrow. Omnivores, in the wild this lizard actively forages during the heat of the day, often scratching insects from beneath the surface of the ground. Besides insects this ameiva consumes all manner of small invertebrates as well as berries and other vegetation. Captives will accept pinky mice, and there is no reason to believe that those in the wild would not eat nestling mice or nestlings of ground nesting songbirds.

I have noticed that some care sheets mention a hot spot of 90F for these lizards. I submit that a brightly lit hot spot of 110-120F would be more appropriate, with the terrarium providing a a thermal gradient to a temperature of 75F on the cool end.

The Concho water snake is a protected species.Although the two occur in different and non-contiguous drainages, the Concho water snake, (formerly Nerodia harteri paucimaculata, now Nerodia paucimaculata) is of very similar appearance to the Brazos water snake. N. harteri. As he had with the latter, Kenny had researched the locales and the probabilities of our finding and photographing the Concho water snake.

Like the Brazos water snake, the Concho has been considered federally threatened since the late 1900s and is primarily a snake of natural and man-made rocky riffles. It has adapted to a few areas of rock-edged quieter waters in reservoirs.

Rather small for an American water snake, the Concho is adult at 24 to 30 inches in length. The sandy dorsal ground color and 4 rows of poorly defined dusky darker blotches blends well with the substrate color on which this snake is found. The belly, usually immaculate but sometimes with a row of indistinct dark spots along each side, is of pink or orangish color.

We searched, we found, we departed. Other herp taxa of Texas still beckoned.

The spring peeper's species name, "crucifer," is derived from the dorsal X (the crucifix).
In many areas spring peepers, Pseudacris crucifer ssp., a common chorus frog that ranges from eastern Texas to eastern Manitoba then eastward to Newfoundland to northern Florida is actually a spring breeder, but in the deep southeast it is a late autumn and winter breeding taxon. On wet years, in this latter area we expect to hear these harbingers of the northern spring chorusing from marshes, swamps, and roadside ditches by late November. They and other chorus frog species welcome in the seasonally cooler days and colder nights when our trees are still dropping their leaves rather than recovering from cloaks of snow and ice and greening with expanding buds. The strident peeps of the well named hylids (they are treefrog relatives), boisterous on warm nights, faltering when temps drop below 45F or so, are as eagerly listened for on our winter days as when the little “X backed”, tan harbingers of spring are making their appearance in the northland swamps and puddles.

A hatchling loggerhead musk turtle.
Carl called across the river “Remember, they look like acorns.”

What, I wondered was he going on about now?

Then it dawned on me. We were only a few minutes from docking and Carl was likening the hatchling loggerhead musk turtles, Sternotherus m. minor, for which we were then searching to a submerged acorn. Well, it’s true that they are darn near small enough, and when the roughened carapace is muddied by the perpetually silted water in which we were then searching the tiny turtles are almost acorn colored. So as far as it went his comment was a fair analogy. But turn one upside down and you’ll find 4 black spotted olive-tan legs, and a similarly colored head, neck, and tail, protruding from a very unacornlike, flat, rich orange-red, cross-shaped, plastron.

Finally, just before docking the canoes, Carl saw one of the acorns. And just about at the same time I happened upon an adult, which, by the way, looks nothing at all like an acorn and is much duller in color than the hatchling, but is still enjoyable to find. Give it a try sometime. The search can be a whole lot more fulfilling than sitting home and taking a selfie!

A young female Sri Lankan tree viper.
For many years Patti and I kept and bred a couple of dozen species of tree vipers of several genera. Among my favorites was the Sri Lankan species, Trimeresurus trigonocephalus. They were of moderate size (usually 2 to 3 ½ feet) , usually of reasonably equable disposition, always of beautiful color, and since they are both dimorphic and dichromatic they are an easily sexed taxon. Males, the smaller gender usually have much more black in the lateral and dorsal pattern than the primarily green females. Additionally, this taxon does not require brumation or other pronounced temperature manipulations to be successfully bred. And when and if bred these long-lived arboreal pit vipers bear living young (neonates are7 ½ to 9 inches long) that usually feed readily on thawed pinkies. Litters of 20 to 25 have been reported but the females we kept usually birthed 5 to 10 babies once a year. This taxon is light-bodied enough to allow a keeper to incorporate sturdy vining plants (Epipremnums and/or Philodendrons) and horizontal tree branches into beautiful terrarium designs. How much easier and fulfilling could keeping a venomous snake be?

This was one of 2 gravid female frosted flatwoods salamander we saw.
When we left at 1500 hrs, the forecast called for 3-5" of rain in Liberty County. Remnants of the super hurricane, Patricia, heavy rains were forecast to begin at 4:00PM and continue for about 24 hours. The forecast erred. Badly! At first it had sounded like good salamander weather but by the time we got there (6:30 PM) we were wondering? Although it was obvious that it had rained a little, the clouds were breaking up and it was partially sunny. Not salamander weather at all.

Jake and I wondered aloud whether we should remain or return home, but on a whim, decided to head for the coast 20 miles distant. At 7:00PM we were treated to a sprinkle that encouraged us to stay. At 7:30PM we hit a rather widespread and significant shower. Perhaps not all was lost. The road dampened, road edge puddles formed.

At 7:45PM we found an ornate chorus frog, at 7:50PM the first flatwoods salamander crossed, at 7:55PM we found 2 more crossing flatwoods and another ornate chorus. By the time we left, 10:00PM, it had stopped raining again and we had seen 12 of the protected flatwoods salamanders (incl 2 gravid females), 3 more ornates, and a couple of dwarf salamanders. It had turned into a darn good nite.

A pretty adult Christmas tree phase eyelash viper.

Of the many tree vipers, one or more of the many phases of the Eyelash Viper, Bothriechis schlegelii, are often the first “hot species” kept as a hobbyist’s herp experience grows. Although this Latin American tree viper is often available in grays, olives, pinks, and oranges, there seem to be 3 phases, the yellow, the tiger, and the Christmas Tree, that are the most popular. All of these are normal and natural colors, designed by Mother Nature. Although they may have been line bred to “improve” or intensify color or contrast, none are the creations of hobbyist breeders. Since Christmas is tomorrow, it seems appropriate that I at least make mention of this color variation.

It was close to a half century ago when Patti and I first visited Costa Rica. On that trip we were fortunate to meet and be shepherded by Peter and Suzi Seigfried. Peter took us up mountains and down into valleys, into the forests, and along streams. And it was along the forested streams that we first became acquainted with eyelash vipers in habitat. The first we saw, a gray baby, was on an afternoon hike. As eyelash vipers go, this was a pretty “blah” but since it was my first I took photo after photo of the snake. Peter assured me that we would actually see some pretty ones before the trip was over. And he was right. The next one was a beautiful yellow (oropel) example and it was in a banana clump right next to the home of one of Peter’s friends. More pix and more assurances from Peter that we would see more of these pit vipers. Another drive and we were at a tiny hotel in Palmar Norte. The next morning we were on the road again and Peter drove us to visit another of his friends at a locale that if I ever knew I have long forgotten. But I haven’t forgotten the snake we saw. Again in bananas, Peter pointed out the most beautiful pit viper I had until then seen. It was big, it was green with pink and red trim, and although I then thought of it then as a “normal phase” I was looking upon my first “Christmas tree” (hobbyist name) eyelash viper. More pix and many, many fond memories. Herping just doesn’t get any better.

Happy Holidays to all.

Somehow this old female mud turtle had survived this, now healed, terrible injury

The big female mud turtle, a common mud, Kinosternon s. subrubrum, was walking along in the shallows at riveredge. Carl was scooting along in the canoe, and I, as usual, was a few yards upstream firmly caught in a riveredge snag that had reached out and grabbed me while I tried to take photos.

Carl, who has an intense interest in all things kinosternid had been lured to the shore by a small mud turtle basking on a barely emergent limb. It was the 3rd example we had seen on this morning. This one had dropped from its sunny perch as Carl had neared and the turtle had inexplicably disappeared in the clear shallow water. It was as he was about to accept defeat that Carl noticed the big female in the shallows.

He reached over and as he lifted her from the water he exclaimed “this turtle has had a hard life!” When I glanced over it wasn’t difficult to see what had prompted Carl’s comment. Much of the turtle’s posterior carapace was missing and scarred and a closer look disclosed that part of her lower mandible had been over broken and had healed and although almost imperceptibly healed, most flesh from one temporal area had been scraped clean leaving a noticeable difference in bilateral facial configuration. What, we wondered, could have caused this? Outboard prop? A marauding alligator snapper? The jury is hung on the causative agent but is unanimous on the fact that this old girl has had a hard – a very hard – life.

This gator snapper weighed about 50 pounds.

“Dick, bring your camera!”

Easier said than done.

I had just turned around in the canoe to take a photo of a big cypress tree when a strong wind gust blew me broadside into a barely sunken snag. And I was having a devil of a time trying to get free.

Carl, 100 yards down river had just dived to try and find a huge river cooter that had skedaddled off a fallen tree trunk into 5 feet of water. The cooter had disappeared beneath the undercut riverbank but it was obvious that Carl had seen something else while he was submerged.

Finally my snag decided to release my canoe and I was on the way towards Carl.

Carl directed me to haul out across the narrow river from him, ready my camera, and then he dove again. When he next emerged in a shallower spot it was obvious why he was excited for he brought with him a beautiful 50 pound Apalachicola alligator snapper, Macrochelys apalachicolae. Not big as the species goes (the record is 318 pounds!) it was still an unexpected find.

Within minutes photos were made, the snapper had returned to its deeper water den, and we, still buffeted by strong headwinds, were again making our slow way downriver, both wondering whether the headwinds or we would win the gusty battle. Eventually we did.

This is an adult East African gaboon viper. Note the very short rostral horns.
Stoked by a moment’s carelessness by a very experienced keeper of hot (=venomous) snakes that resulted in a bite by a Gaboon viper, as well as a number of other widely publicized incidents, the antivenomous lobby has again been awakened.

The bite was a most unfortunate accident for Gaboons are not difficult snakes to work with. In fact, they are among the easiest. A heavy bodied nocturnal ambush predator, Gaboon vipers (aka Gaboon adders) are usually of quiet demeanor during the hours of daylight and although more alert and active at night or when food is offered they are, except for a defensive or feeding strike, neither especially fast nor agile. Their remarkably pretty coloration and patterns render the species (here I am considering both the eastern and the western forms subspecies—Bitis gabonica gabonica and B. g. rhinoceros respectively--- rather than genetically distinct full species). That Gaboons have long fangs and are able to expend a large amount of complex venom is unquestioned. The whys, wherefores, and legalities, of these potentially dangerous snakes being kept by hobbyists perplex non-herpers. Since a Gaboon viper was one of the first exotic snakes that I, as a herper, maintained, this is not a question I dwell long upon. I need only see—or not see, as the case may be—a Gaboon camouflaged against a leafy background and the “whys” answer themselves.

This is a prettily marked adult Weller's salamanderThe little bronze on black Weller’s salamander, Plethodon welleri, was named for a tragedy. In 1931, while collecting salamanders on Grandfather Mountain in western NC, herpetologist, Worth Hamilton Weller, the discoverer of this taxon, fell to his death.

The current status of this little plethodontid is a bit questionable. Some researchers claim it to be declining and in need of management throughout its range while other researchers feel the populations in NC, TN, and VA are stable.

This high altitude species (5000’ and above in many populations, rarely lower in some locales) apparently moves underground when temps near or drop below freezing. During warmer weather, and especially dampish warmer weather, finding one or a few is not a difficult task.

Weller’s salamander is adult at about 3 inches overall length. The amount of bronze on the dorsum seems individually variable. Within a given population some examples may be liberally suffused with bronze dorsal color while others may bear only a spot or two of the color.

Because of the beauty and remoteness of the habitat utilized by this salamander, finding this species is an exciting venture. On our Oct 2015 trip Patti and I experienced sustained winds of 20 mph and occasional gusts of 40-60 mph. I can assure you that we both stayed well away from the cliff faces that are so much a feature of the landscapes in this region.

Having a bottom 2 1/2 x 3 feet and a height of 5" allows one to catch all manner of herps, fish, and aquatic insects.
The other day Mike and John came by and borrowed my Goin Dredge (see photo above) to try their luck finding small fish, aquatic salamanders and tadpoles in some of our local shallow (ankle to chest deep are fine, but waist deep seems to be preferred) waters. They had a productive day, one that hearkened me back to the days when Patti and I spent time dredging and photographing the results.

To use the dredge one wades out to floating masses of aquatic vegetation (water hyacinths being among the better plant types) slides the dredge beneath the root masses, lift the contained vegetative mass to the surface and sort through the roots and stems.

Among other things, in this way Patti and I found two-toed amphiuma, 3 species of siren including our first Everglades dwarf siren, dwarf salamanders, river frog tadpoles, mud snakes, striped crayfish snakes, various water snakes, an occasional small cottonmouth, and many interesting fish and invertebrates.

We’d return home hours later, soaked, mud-covered, and satisfied. Maybe it’s time to do this again!