A profile of a 5 foot long green anaconda in Amazonian Peru.
“Anaconda!”

That word always brought an excited response from our tour clients in Amazonian Peru. As a matter of face, the finding of one of these potentially giant water boas brought feelings of excitement from us, the tour leaders.

It is the green anaconda, Eunectes murinus, that occurs in our region and unlike some areas of northern South America where the species is considered common, we always considered ourselves lucky if we found an example on any given trip.

The large-headed anole is very locally distributed in South Florida.
This is a confusingly variable, sexually dimorphic (males being the larger (to 8 inches) and bulkier) trio of anoles. Several anole species lack the ability to change colors from brown to green or vice versa, and these 3 are among the “unables.” Two of these, the Puerto Rican crested and the large-headed anoles may occasionally assume an olive gray blush, but they are unable to become the bright green that is so often associated with anoles.

The green bark anole, Anolis distichus dominicensis, may still be seen in a few isolated Florida hammocks.
The established alien anoles in Florida range from Lake Okeechobee southward to the Keys and in size from the 4 ½ inch long bark anoles, A. distichus ssp., to the gigantic, foot and a half long, knight anole, Anolis e. equestris. However most are in 7 to 8 inch range with females a bit the smaller gender. All are capable of at least a little color change and some make dramatic changes. Let’s take a quick look at 3 of the rather typical smaller examples.

Native or not, that is the question. The Florida bark anole, Anolis distichus floridana.
Of the Baker’s dozen (maybe 14) anole species that are still listed as being present in the USA, there are probably at least 2 taxa that no longer occur. And of those listed only 2 are native. These are the color changing, arboreal, green (or Carolina) anole that has 2 recognized subspecies (the northern form, Anolis c. carolinensis, and the very questionable southern form, A. c. seminolus). And then there’s the primarily treetrunk dwelling Florida bark anole, A. distichus floridana.

The northern form of the green anole ranges westward and southward from southern Virginia to eastern Texas and southern Florida, surrounding the relatively small range (western Sarasota to Collier counties) of the southern race.

The subspecies of the the green anole are recognized and differentiated by dewlap (throat fan) color. The northern race has a red dewlap and the southern has a gray dewlap. I feel that the gray throated race is “questionable” because when utilizing the subspecies concept there supposedly cannot be 2 subspecies existing sympatrically. However throughout the South Florida range of the southern green anole one can also encounter green anoles with red dewlaps. Perhaps just calling the gray throated form an occasional variant would be more accurate.

Questions of a different kind are often raised about the Florida bark anole; is it or is it not a native form. It would seem that the current concept is either “yes” or “maybe” to that ques

This race of the bark anole (A. distichus is a Bahaman and Hispaniolan group) is found from southeastern Palm Beach County southward to Monroe County and in many areas has intergraded with the non-native but established green bark anole, A. d. dominicensis. In its purest form it is a gray or brownish lizard with dark dorsal chevrons and a yellow to orange dewlap.

These two are only the tip of Florida’s anoline iceberg. I’ll say a few word about the others in future blogs.



Native or not, that is the question. The Florida bark anole, Anolis distichus floridana.

Green anoles in southern Florida may have a red or a gray dewlap. Currently those having gray dewlaps are considered A. c. seminolus.


Red dewlaps are the more common color with the green anole, A. c. carolinensis.

Once thought to be restricted to southernmore locales, Cope's gray treefrog is now known to occur pretty much over the entire range of the gray treefrogs. This is Hyla chrysoscelis.
Two genetic terms, diploid and tetraploid come into play when discussing these 2 lookalike species, the Gray treefrog, Hyla versicolor and Cope’s gray treefrog, Hyla chrysoscelis. At one time it was thought the the two could be identified by range and/or call with versicolor being the more northerly and having the more slowly trilled, more pleasing (=musical) call. These are now known to be invalid criteria. A friend has found versicolor as far south as Tallahassee, FL and others have found chrysoscelis as far north as Michigan and Massachusetts.

So, exactly how do you separate these 2 common treefrogs? Well, unless you have a genetics lab available you do so inexactly. With a lab, chromosome count can be determined. The gray treefrog is tetraploid, having twice the number of chromosomes as the diploid Cope’s gray treefrog. Without the lab you’ll have to extrapolate and hypothesize, determining the findings of previous researchers for the frogs from a given locale, then comparing whether the calls are pleasant and rather slowly trilled or harsh and rapidly pulsed (almost like a rivetgun)—and of course this latter will only work on the males—the females are silent. And I still find that gray treefrogs are the more common in the northerly climes while Cope’s gray treefrogs are more common in the south.

So you should now be able to at least guess at the identification of the treefrog you are listening to or watching. And of course the name, “gray”, is definitive, right. Nope. While they are often gray, they might actually be a pretty green through shades of gray to almost white. But in all phases they do have a white marking beneath each eye and extensive orange in the groin region.

Have fun.

San Diego ringneck, D. p. similisAmazingly, even today, in the midst of nomenclatural clownery, there remain 12 subspecies of ring-necked snake, Diadophis punctatus, in the USA. When you add the 2 exclusively Mexican forms (Todos Santos ringneck, D. anthonyi and the Michoacan ringneck, D. dugesii) there are 14 subspecies.

But for now let’s stick with the USA forms. Of the 12, 1 is northeastern (plus adjacent Canada), 3 are southeastern, 2 are more or less centralian, and 6 occur along the Pacific Coast from southern CA (and nearby Baja) to central WA. Interestingly, although a couple extend beyond CA, all 6 of these subspecies may be found somewhere in CA. And among those 6 are some of the most resplendent subspecies (not that all ringnecks, no matter where they may be found, aren’t of noteworthy beauty).

Here is a listing of the USA ringnecks as well as pix of three of the most brightly colored Pacific Coast subspecies.

Northeastern ring-necked snakes:
D. p. edwardsii — northern ring-necked snake

Southeastern ring-necked snakes:
D. p. acricus — Key ring-necked snake
D. p. punctatus — southern ring-necked snake
D. p. stictogenys — Mississippi ring-necked snake

Centralian ring-necked snakes:
D. p. arnyi — prairie ring-necked snake
D. p. regalis — regal ring-necked snake

Pacific Coast ring-necked snakes:
D. p. amabilis — Pacific ring-necked snake
D. p. modestus — San Bernardino ring-necked snake
D. p. occidentalis — northwestern ring-necked snake
D. p. pulchellus — coralbelly ring-necked snake
D. p. similis — San Diego ring-necked snake
D. p. vandenburgii — Monterey ring-necked snake

The hobbyist favorite, the colorful South African coral cobra.
Of the 3 subspecies of this interesting, 23 to 30 inch long, burrowing, elapine snake, it is the most brightly colored, southernmost, race, the Cape coral cobra, Aspidelaps l. lubricus, that is the hobbyist favorite.

A snake of arid habitats of the Cape region of South Africa and southern Namibia, when young this narrow-hooded cobra relative is clad dorsally and laterally in broad red and, except for the broad black nuchal marking, narrow black rings. When its anterior is elevated in the defensive posture, 2 or 3 broad black bands are displayed across its white throat and anterior venter. The red body rings are brightest dorsally and may fade noticeably on the sides. As the snake grows and ages the rings tend to break and become incomplete ventrally. The triangular nose-tip rostral scale is noticeably enlarged and helps this little snake with its burrowing proclivities. In nature it crepuscular and nocturnal and is often found beneath rocks.

The 2 more northerly forms, A. l. cowelsi of central Namibia and A. l. infuscatus (this latter being of questionable validity) of northern Namibia and southern Angola, are duller in color and may attain a slightly larger size. They are only marginally differentiated from each other, the former having a dark head and the latter having a light head, and are best identified by range.

Captives are easily maintained and, if cooled slightly in winter breed readily Frozen/thawed mice of suitable size are usually hungrily accepted as are various lizards. A clutch may contain from 4 to 8 (rarely a few more) eggs.

No matter how long they are captive, the coral cobras usually retain a feisty disposition, huffing, puffing, and occasionally striking at any and all disturbances.

Human deaths have been caused by bites from this small snake. The venom is neurotoxic. Extreme care should be used at all times.

Most of the western slender glass lizards that we found were between 16 and 22 inches in total length.
Last summer Jake and I spent a few days in Kansas looking for western massasaugas and Plains hog-nosed snakes. We succeeded admirably on the rattler (learning in the process that the Kansas examples are as fast as the proverbial greased lightning and very quick to take fright) but failed on the hoggy.

But while we were busily failing on Heterodon we began taking note of the number of western slender glass lizards, Ophisaurus a. attenuatus that we saw. Not only were the anguids present but they were present in numbers, and in huge numbers at that. As the sun was dipping low in the west or, if you prefer, as the earth was spinning rapidly eastward, we would see first one, then another, then 3 or 4 more, all subadults, of this pretty, prominently striped, lizard. By the time we acknowledged failure with the hognose each night we would have seen 10 to 20 glass lizards. While the western slender glass lizard was no stranger to me, at no other place had I seen them in such numbers.

And of at least as much interest as the mere presence of the lizards was the fact that almost all had a full, original tail. Kansas! For me the state itself and remembrances of western slender glass lizards will be forever intertwined.

I actually successfully bred this male South Florida mole king with a smaller female--both commercially obtained.
Dratted snake! How many times—how many years—how many pure thoughts—does it take to find a live one? I’ve tried over and over and over again— and then tried again--alone and with Jake. Sum total? Zero alive!

Other friends have found this elusive snake, and acquaintances have found even more. But my total--1, found years ago as road jerky over near Okeechobee City. And that doesn’t count in my book. So, other than a tale of failure, what is the story here?

Well, here it is in shortened format: After Price described this snake (Price, R.M. 1987. Disjunct occurrence of mole snakes in Peninsular Florida, and the description of a new subspecies of Lampropeltis calligaster. Bull. Chicago Herpetol. Soc. 22 (9): 148) the “lamprophiles of which I am not one, began flocking to South Florida (shades of L. alterna!) looking hard for the mole king.

Some succeeded, many (me included) failed. But I did continue to look occasionally, and did so throughout the described range of the subspecies. It was early on that I found the DOR and began to note that even though infrequently seen the snake was collected by others for the pet trade. So, wanting to actually see one in the wild, I began looking a little more frequently. I found garter snakes, water snakes and rat snakes galore, and even an occasional Florida king, but not a single mole king. I got so used to failure that when friends found one, I sulked. Yes, I sulked, and I’m not even fond of kingsnakes of any flavor. But I’m even less fond of perpetual failure.

So I stopped looking, and did so just in time, because the genetic wizards have just elevated it from subspecies status to a full species, and there’s no sense in wasting more time looking for a subspecies when I could be wasting it looking for a full species!

OK, Jake. No more procrastination. It’s time to find one of these durn things. South Florida, here we come!

The longitudinally divided dorsal stripe of the juvenile Scott Bar salamander is easily seen here.
The Scott Bar salamander (Plethodon asupak) is a species of salamander in the family Plethodontidae. The genus occurs primarily in the USA but a few species extend northward into southern Canada. The Scott Bar salamander is restricted to a very small range in the Scott River drainage in Siskiyou County, California, at altitudes between 2,300 and 4,300 ft. Described in 2005, it is one of the most recently recognized species in the genus.

About half of the Scott Bar salamanders 5 inch length is tail. Males seem marginally the smaller gender. Juveniles are often more brightly colored than the adults, having a well defined red dorsum that is divided lengthwise by an ill-defined brownish stripe. Old adults often lack even vestiges of red, being an overall white-flecked gray. The flecking is most profuse laterally and the ground color is darkest ventrally.

Within its preferred habitat of rocky montane, evergreen clad, slopes, this can, within its limited range, be an abundant species, and on foggy or dew-spangled nights a fair number may be seen foraging. In this behavior they are identical to many (if not most) of the more widespread woodland salamanders.

The 3 subspecies of swamp snakes are very similar in appearance, They are best determined by
ventral scale count and range.This is the North Florida swamp snake, Liodytes pygaea pygaea.
The North Florida swamp snake, a small but very pretty, predominantly aquatic taxon, has recently been reclassified by the nomenclatural clowns. Seminatrix, the very long-standing genus name applied to the 3 subspecies of swamp snake, is no longer valid. These snakes are now grouped with the crayfish snakes in the genus Liodytes. with the North Florida subspecies being the nominate form, Liodytes p. pygaea.

Despite their seldom being seen, the swamp snakes are among the most common of our southeastern serpents. Most of the few seen are found during their rather infrequent terrestrial ramblings while they are crossing expanses of open ground such as trails, roads, or paths.

But if you happen to be in an area where masses of aquatic vegetation (especially the invasive water hyacinths) are being dredged, and if you have a chance to sort through the root systems of those plants, you may find these shiny red-orange bellied black snakes present in the dozens.

These little natricines feed on a wide variety of aquatic organisms that range from leeches and worms to amphibian larvae.

Live bearing, the diminutive 4-5 inch long neonates are exactly like the adults in all except size.

This, the chocolate treefrog, is one that we eagerly seek but seldom see.
Knock- knock- knock- knock.

Hmmmm, I wonder?

Again the knocking but this time I was bit closer. The sound came from a few feet into the rainforest to the left of the slippery, very muddy trail. I had a pretty good idea what was calling but had to be sure. Checking to make sure I wouldn’t be walking into some “monkey-get-back-bush” or brushing against a tree bustling with bullet ants, I moved from the trail, over numbers of small fallen trees, into the brushy forest.

By then, what had been a steady but gentle rainfall suddenly decided to become a more typical, ferocious Amazonian downpour. With the increase in rainfall came a corresponding increase in the knock-knock calls.

It doesn’t do much good to wear rain gear in the Amazon. Within seconds a raincoat becomes a sweatcoat and boots are soon wetter inside than out. The most prudent thing is to simple get soaked by the almost body temperature rain and drip dry between showers while you walk along. And so I stood amidst the knocking calls, dripping and looking but not drying.

Finally one of the calls came from almost overhead. Looking upward about 4’ over my head I noticed a knothole in a small tree. And from the knothole again came the call—but 4 feet above my head on a rain-slicked tree was, for an old guy, shall we just say, well out of reach.

Improvisation was necessary. The fallen tree trunks came to mind. Would they stack and could I stack them high and securely enough to reach into that knothole? Yes, yes, and yes.
And within a few minutes I had a knock-knock critter in hand. As suspected it was a frog, a hylid frog, and a pretty one at that. With a milk chocolate dorsum and legs and dark chocolate sides, belly, and eyes, I had in hand a Nyctimantis rugiceps, a chocolate or brown-eyed treefrog!

Hydrops martii has narrow, prominent bands.
The theme of red, black, and yellow (or white) bands/rings is not uncommon among Amazonian snakes. Not only are there a number of coral snake species that bear those familiar colors (although not in the sequence that we in the USA are familiar with), but there are a number of harmless and rear-fanged taxa so clad. Two of the latter are the primarily aquatic coral mud snakes, the broad banded Hydrops triangularis bassleri and the narrow banded Hydrops martii.

Like most Amazonian snakes, the 2 taxa of mud snakes are everywhere but nowhere. If you search specifically for them you will almost certainly fail. But the, if you’re out looking for aquarium fish or Amazonian water snakes (Helicops sp.) at night you just may luck onto a Hydrops. That’s just the way the Amazon works.

And so one rainy night we decided to look for caiman on an Amazon tributary. A half dozen of us clambered aboard a small boat and off we went. A half hour later we found a hatchling spectacled caiman, but we didn’t know that at the time. We did know that we found a big, and very unexpected, Hydrops martii that had obviously just consumed a huge meal. Not wanting to try for pix in the rain, we bagged the snake and returned to camp where we would then photograph the snake and return it to where it had been found. Good plan. Photogenic snake.

But when we opened the bag we had not only the pretty snake but with it was a hatchling caiman—regurgitated, sticky, but apparently none-the-worse for its harrowing experience. We made note of the before then unknown food item then turned both loose.

And as far as the other Hydrops species, H. triangularis bassleri, is concerned, one night during a pelting rain, I walked, as I had done 100 times before, from my cabin to the edge of the little oxbow a few dozen yards away. There in the shallows lay a bassleri, the first and only one I had/have ever seen in the wild. Go figure.

A tangle of aquatic caecilians, including gravid females.
It was about midnight and a heavy seasonal shower had just abated. I was standing on the edge of a small inlet on the Rio Orosa in Amazonian Peru. I had been hoping to find a small aquatic snake or two, had actually succeeded (another story), and was just about to call it a night when a bit of a commotion in the shallows a dozen feet from me caught my eye. I hurried the few steps needed to get to the disturbance, and saw what appeared to be a big dark colored worm rapidly coiling and uncoiling.

Dark and a worm, eh? Ah ha! An aquatic caecilian, Typhlonectes compressicauda, my first in the wild. .As I watched it uncoiled and moved slowly—forward, stop, reverse a little, probe, forward again--into some water edge, emergent, vegetation. I watched it for another 5 minutes before it disappeared into the bottom mulm.

These representatives of the third group of amphibians (the other 2 being the caudatans and the anurans) were once common (although, legally they shouldn’t have been) in the pet trade. Most that arrived here (USA) were imported from Colombia as tropical fish (“rubber eels”, if you will—they were also marketed as “Sicilian” eels!). Adults are hardy aquarium animals, feeding well on black (tubifex) worms or sectioned earthworms. Adults are legless, finless, have a tactile tentacle, and lack external gills. The babies, borne alive, have large, external, parchment like gills.

Perhaps at some point in time these will again be available; perhaps not. But if they are, they are an interesting and easily kept amphibian species for aquarists and herpers alike.

Profile of an Everglades corn snake.
Throughout their immense range over most of the eastern USA (NJ in the northeast, to AR and LA in the west, and the FL Keys in the southeast) the corn snake (or red rat snake), Pantherophis g. guttatus, varies widely in abundance and color. But over that geographic immensity, the corn snake is probably no better known and variable than in Florida. If you, as a hobbyist, have any interest at all in pretty, fairly large, easily bred, nonvenomous snakes, you have almost assuredly heard of “Tampa phase,” “blood reds,” “anerythristic,” “Miami phase,” “Keys corns (which designation contains 3 or 4 color variants), or just plain old “Florida” corns.

But one you don’t hear an awful lot about is also one of the brighter Florida variants. This is the Everglades phase of the red rat (or corn) snake.

The ground color of this constricting beauty is a warm tan. The red-orange dorsal blotches are edged with black. The black edging is about a half-scale wide on the front and rear of each blotch but is noticeably less prominent on the lateral edges. All colors are paler along the sides of the snake.

Caught your attention? Like other corns, this variant is active crepuscularly and after nightfall. It may often been seen in agricultural or grassland regions at the southern tip of the peninsula. But a word to the wise should be sufficient---if you are collecting, stay out of the Everglades National Park.

The crows will often alert me to nesting activities by our tortoises.
Caw, caw, caw.

Hmmmmm. That crow is really close. I glanced up from the keyboard and scanned the bird feeders. No crow.

Caw, caw, caw.

Nearer yet. Then it dawned.

The crow, inky black even when bathed in the brightness of the late morning sunlight, was sitting atop the railing that enclosed the tortoise pens. And as I had learned in previous years, when the crows come that close it is for a reason. And that reason is usually egg-deposition by one of our turtles or tortoises.

Whether by body language displayed by the female chelonians on, or a day or two before, “deposition day,” by some chemical cues (how good are a crow’s olfactory senses?) or by other behavior patterns, I just don’t know. What I do know is that when the crows arrive I had better cancel and activities that would have me away from the pens until the laying actually occurs and the eggs are laid and gathered for incubation.

What? You dig and gather the chelonian eggs? Indeed we do. If left in the hands of Mother Nature the crows are not only adept at knowing the ‘whens and wherefores” of the laying procedures but are sufficiently alert and dexterous to steal the eggs during laying or to actually excavate the chelonian’s nest one the procedure is complete.

Caw, caw, caw, indeed! Thanks, crow, for the warning.

This is the "Dixie Caverns" phase of Wherle's salamander.
Of variable colors and/or patterns in all populations, in 2 of its 3 variations, Wehrle’s salamander, Plethodon wehrlei, is just an interesting little (tyo 6”) dark-colored salamander of the wooded uplands. It range southward from extreme South West New York to extreme North Central North Carolina. Then there is a disjunct population in North Central Tennessee and Eastern Kentucky. Southernmost examples have a ground color of bluish-brown (also “ish”) that may or may not be heavily spotted laterally with white flecks. Northerly examples are of similar bluish-brown(ish) ground color with white to bluish-white lateral flecks and bronzy dorsal flecks. These latter are often referred to as the “Dixie Caverns variant”.

However it is the 3rd variant that seems of the most interest to herpers, and certainly is to me. This is the “twin-spotted” variant, a phase that might be likened to a spotted salamandey that had been on a lengthy diet. This pattern anomaly is most often seen in the TN, KY, and many western WV populations. Similar to those in the other populations, the ground color remains a brownish-gray and there are scattered light lateral spots and often light flecks from nape to a point above the forelimbs. But with these the pattern similarity ends for along the dorsum, from forelimbs to the anterior portion of the tail, there is a dual row of paired yellow to orange spots. In my opinion these markings transform what in other populations are merely ”interesting” salamanders to what are then “pretty” salamanders

But of course, what is pretty is always in the eyes of the beholder. And what is of interest to a given individual is equally personal.

Having just emerged from the walls of our house, this black racer is now waiting for the sunshine.
Every morning (weather permitting) this little black nose, belonging to an adult southern black racer, Coluber constrictor priapus, pokes out of a tiny space between our home's siding and the frame. A half hour later the owner of that nose glides slowly up onto the back steps, thermoregulates for 10 or 15 minutes, then begins its day of hunting for brown anoles, a food item of which there is no paucity in our yard. Having started this routine about 2 years ago when he or she was a youngster just losing its baby pattern, it has now become so accustomed to us that, unlike others of its ilk, the snake allows us to walk within a couple of feet of it without bolting.

A few other hobbyists have related interesting activity patterns involving racers of various subspecies both when captive and wild. In some case this involves feeding patterns while with others it has been the approachability and associated responses by the racer.
Racers (and I guess I’ll include whipsnakes (Masticophis) in this comment) are large, intelligent, and in some cases brightly colored snakes that produce fair-sized clutches of easily incubated eggs. I have long wondered why they are so often overlooked by hobbyists.

Although an agile climber, the leopard rat snake is entirely at home on the ground.
Because of superficial similarities to our corn snake, not the least being that of color and pattern, this pretty rat snake was often referred to by American hobbyists as the European Corn Snake. Like our corn snake, the leopard rat snake, Zamenis situla, was also once contained in the then cosmopolitan genus Elaphe making the nomenclatural analogy even more understandable.

Today most North American rat snakes are contained in the genus Pantherophis while the leopard rat snake, now in the genus Zamenis, is the most brightly colored of the three species in that Old World genus.

The leopard rat snake occurs in both a saddled and a striped morph. The ground color varies through shades of gray to a warm tan and the red dorsal markings may be strongly or vaguely outlined in black. A black band extends across the top of the head from eye to eye and the anteriormost red marking is in the form of a spearpoint, pointed end foremost.

Occasionally reaching a length of 3 ½ feet, these slender snakes are usually adult at 3 feet or slightly less and the females are often the larger sex.

Our captives have proven shy, seasonably active, and spend most of their time securely hidden in their hideboxes. They prefer small prey items, and several of ours were reluctant to accept white mice of any size but would readily eat deer and white-footed mice. A 90 day period of hibernation is recommended.

During their active period a cage temperature of 70-75F is satisfactory but a basking hot spot of 85-90F should be provided.

Clutch size is usually 4 to 6 large, elongate, eggs. Incubation (60 to 70 days) should be at about 82F. Hatchlings may refuse food until they have been hibernated.

Although capable of climbing, the peeper does not usually ascend very high.
Although peeper season down here in the “deep southeast” (nFL, sGA and sAL) is now almost over (it’s mid-April), it was brought to my attention the other day that it has just started up in the northland that I still think of as “home.”

Unlike in New England, where winter is a fearsome period of unruly (and usually COLD) weather and warmth providing fireplaces, down here, rather than by climatic extremes, “winter” is best defined by calendar dates. Depending on rains and temperatures peepers, Pseudacris crucifer, in the southeast may be heard calling in the late autumn to and through the winter months (November to March). So in actuality they (and most other chorus frogs, of which the peeper is one, are winter peepers.

Peepers are capable of limited metachrosis. They are usually darker when cold than when warm. And a darker, often imperfect, X (the crucifix from which the species name crucifer, is derived) is usually visible on their back. This little frog, a hylid (treefrog), has tiny toetip discs that allow it to climb, even if haltingly, and is adult at a SVL of 1.5” or less.

For the most part, our chorus frogs are done vocalizing until next autumn. Now with the advent of warmer weather it’s treefrog time, with the green treefrog often leading the other choristers. It’s nice to have frog voices year round.

It is during the breeding season that the head of the male broad-head is fiery and enlarged.
The broad-headed skink, Plestiodon laticeps, is easily kept but not always easily bred.

It was way back in the early 1950s that I first saw this species. It was then known as the “greater five-lind skink.”

I was on the 2nd floor of a deserted and decrepit house on Okeetee Hunt Club. Gordy and I had just left Carl, Bob, and Zig, and were hoping to find a few more herps before nightfall. I was infatuated with the region’s resident rat snakes, the black (actually more greenish than black) and corn snakes. Knowing that the former were accomplished climbers, I had climbed the rickety stairs and was checking the rotted and loosened window sills. No rat snakes yet but as I moved to where a hefty limb lay against the house I saw what was until then the prettiest lizard I had ever seen in wild. Having it’s body a burnished brown and it’s head a fire orange, I had just met a male broad-headed skink.

I soon had acquired a pair of these beauties—the male from SC and the female from FL. They were kept in a 36gal savanna terrarium with climbing/basking limbs and profuse ground cover/hiding areas that included enough soil to burrow. The diet consisted of insects and occasional small pinkies. They had a large ceramic dog watering bowl. The terrarium was sprinkled occasionally. A natural photoperiod and a hotspot of 105+F was provided on a uppermost limb. The lizards thrived, breeding several times during the years I kept them.
Today I live in Florida and wild examples of this taxon are almost daily warm weather visitors on our back deck. I never tire of seeing them.

Despite the similarity of appearance to that of a slimy salamander, the white-spot is more closely allied to the Wehrle's salamander
“Looks bad, Jake.”

There was 4” of snow and the higher we climbed the faster the snow was falling. We were on a mountaintop on the WV-VA stateline hoping to find a white-spotted (Cow Knob) salamander, Plethodon punctatus. Although having the white-spots on a black ground color of a slimy salamander, this 6-inch long montane caudatan is more closely allied to Wehrle’s salamander.

As I had done a decade-plus earlier, Jake was now trying to accrue a life list of all USA herps, and P. punctatus was one of the few Appalachian caudatans remaining on his “wannasee” list. But despite our efforts on that day and the next to two locales, we failed to find this wanted and localized taxon.

On day one, after a slow, rocky, muddy, several mile climb on a Jeep trail, my trusty CRV made it to within .8 mile of the destination. At that point we encountered a Jeep-only puddle that prevented us going further. But it mattered not. Because of the snow cover and existing snow storm, we had learned by that time it that it was almost impossible to find the habitat we had hoped to see, and the cover we did find was still frozen to the ground.

Except for not being stopped by a puddle, conditions on day two conspired equally against us. The snow was even deeper, the ground cover was still frozen. And if salamanders were there they succeeded in hiding from us. It was time to give up.
C’mon spring!

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.