A little Storeria dekayi that I uncovered while clearing leaves off the garden paths yesterday afternoon (1/5/2019 (5/1/2019 if you are European)).
See also: First snake of 2018
gardening in the North Carolina piedmont
A little Storeria dekayi that I uncovered while clearing leaves off the garden paths yesterday afternoon (1/5/2019 (5/1/2019 if you are European)).
See also: First snake of 2018
Yesterday morning, as I ambled up the driveway to close the deer gate, I stumbled across a species that I have wanted to see for the past forty years, ever since I first read about it in the old Golden Guide to Reptiles and Amphibians: an eastern hognose snake.
Like about 30% of the hognose snakes in the piedmont area [1], it was melanistic, with jet black scales showing none of the brown camouflage markings of the typical color form. At first glance, it looked like an unusually short and stout black rat snake, but then I noticed the distinctive upturned snout that gives the eastern hognose its common name.
The eastern hognose is one of the most interesting and unusual snakes in North America. Why? First, hognose snakes feed almost exclusively on amphibians, primarily toads, so they are resistant to the bufotoxins exuded by their prey. When threatened, toads inflate with air, but hognose snakes have the tools to deal with this defense mechanism: enlarged rear fangs and a mild venom. Some sources suggest that the venom anesthetizes toads, causing them to deflate, while others indicate that hognose snakes “pop” inflated toads with their fangs. Perhaps both are true.
The hognose snake’s second claim to fame is its truly spectacular behavioral repertoire. When threatened, a hognose will first puff up, hiss loudly, and spread its neck like a little cobra. The snake that I found showed us this behavior when I lifted it into a bucket to carry it away from the road to a safer spot in the garden.
By the time the kids and I deposited the snake next to a large pile of rotting logs and some good undergrowth, it apparently felt sufficiently threatened to perform its most famous routine. Writhing dramatically, it rolled over and then went limp with its mouth gaping and tongue hanging out.
It held this pose for about a minute before spoiling the effect by popping its head up to have a look around.
Deciding that we had disturbed the snake enough, we went away.
Reference
Previous posts in this series:
Snakes in the garden, part 1: flower bed snakelings
Snakes in the garden, part 2: the black snakes
When it saw me in the garden, this rat snake decided to retreat to the trees. Unfortunately it chose to scale a winterberry holly that is only about seven feet tall.
Mercer Botanical Gardens are located north of downtown Houston, very close to George Bush Intercontinental Airport. I had visited the gardens once before, about seventeen years ago, but remembered very little, so during our recent trip to Houston, I took the opportunity to renew my acquaintance.
I had forgotten about Hurricane Harvey. During the flooding last year, the gardens were submerged under eight feet of muddy, polluted water. Clearly the floods did a lot of damage, and just as clearly the gardens employees and volunteers have been working very hard to repair the damage. This article from the Houston Chronicle describes the devastation, and a google image search will show you what the gardens once were. These six pictures will give you a little taste of what the gardens are now, and a hint of what they will be again.
1. Dead palm tree
Some of the garden grounds were still closed off, and in the open areas damaged plants were still visible. After the flooding, last winter included an unusually prolonged cold spell in the Houston area, which probably did not help the tender palms. Virtually all of those that were still alive had damaged fronds, but that damage is temporary. I’m not sure if this palm tree was left in the ground because the staff had been overwhelmed, or if they were waiting to see if it might resprout.
2. Zephyranthes (rain lilies)
Many of the plants that seemed to be in the best conditions were tropical bulbs and rhizomes, particularly those that tolerate wet soil (crinum, gingers, etc). Presumably, these plants resisted being washed away by the flood, and any top damage was easily replaced. I saw an enormous clump of Hymenocallis caribaea, unfortunately not blooming, that was in prime condition, but the best flowers were on these unlabeled Zephyranthes. They were blooming all by themselves in a rock garden area that appeared to have been recently renovated but not yet replanted.
3-5. Tropical shrubs and trees
Although many of the beds are thus far, still fairly barren, splashes of color from vigrous perennials and fast growing tropical trees and shrubs hint at how spectacular the gardens will be again in a few years.
6. Anolis sagrei (brown anole)
The gardens were swarming with little brown anoles. A. sagrei is native to Cuba and the Bahamas, and it is an invasive species in the southeastern U.S. where it often replaces the native Anolis carolinensis (green anole). My parents’ garden south of Houston still has green anoles, but I didn’t see a single native lizard at Mercer.
So, that’s Six on Saturday and a very brief look at Mercer as it is now. For more Six on Saturday, head over to the blog of The Propagator, who started this weekly exercise and collects links from other participants.
This week we traveled to see family in Houston. While there, we visited two places that may be of interest to readers of this blog: Brazos Bend State Park and Mercer Botanic Garden.
Brazos Bend State Park is a 4897-acre park on the banks of the Brazos River in rural Fort Bend County, about 45 miles from downtown Houston. It contains prairie, bottomland forest, and various wetlands, and it is one of my favorite places to visit in the Houston area because of its varied wildlife.
The primary appeal of Brazos Bend–at least for our family–is the large population of American alligators (Alligator mississippiensis). On a warm summer day, they are everywhere.
In the winter, we sometimes don’t see any, but this week was hot (95 F) and very, very humid–perfect weather for gator viewing. The kids stopped counting at thirty.
The rangers recommend that visitors stay 30 feet away from alligators. That can be difficult when they park themselves beside the trail.
Discretion is the better part of valor, and it is usually best to turn down another trail. Nevertheless, some people get a bit too close:
I prefer to trust in a good zoom lens.
In addition to the alligators, there is a lot of other wildlife in Brazos Bend. On past visits, we have seen armadillos and feral pigs, but this year all of our sightings were in and around the water. We saw three red-eared sliders (Trachemys scripta elegans) laying eggs and a fourth lumbering across the path, probably on its way to build a nest or returning to the water after finishing. We didn’t bother to count the turtles in the water.
There were also a wide variety of water birds, including:
Just about the only animals we saw that weren’t aquatic or semi-aquatic were the golden silk spiders (Nephila clavipes) that had spun their webs along (or across) the trail in wooded areas.
We also saw some of the same animals a little closer to home. One morning, I strolled down to the spillway near my parents’ house, where the neighborhood lake drains into Oyster Creek. A handsome family of black-bellied whistling ducks was sheltering on top of the spillway.
Mama duck was keeping all of the ducklings tucked under her wings, probably because several herons were skulking nearby, ostensibly fishing but probably keeping an eye open for stray ducklings.
The herons flew away, complaining loudly, when eldest offspring and I walked down to see what we could see in the creek, and as soon as they were gone, mama duck let the babies out.
That’s probably enough photographs for one post. I’ll save Mercer Botanic Garden for another day.