Among our most universal and compelling fears, one that is widespread across cultures, continents, and through vast spans of time, is the fear of snakes. In terms of simple survival, this makes perfect sense; many snakes can be lethal. For countless millennia, I am sure that people knew which snakes were dangerous and which were not.
In modern times, our culture has become so disassociated with the natural world that most of us can no longer identify what species are harmless and what kinds are not. The deep-rooted, possibly instinctual fear of snakes remains – when coupled with widespread ignorance, it results in the needless death of many snakes every year. You say rattlesnakes are easy to identify? Tell that to the many people who have killed slightly similar gophersnakes, thinking they were rattlers. Or to the screamers that wield shovels in attempts to automatically kill any snake they see.
The photograph above the title depicts a pair of mating western diamondbacks. A reminder – if you are viewing this in your email, you will not see the header images. Move your cursor over the title and click on it to be re-directed to my blog site, where the header images appear and where other images are larger as well.
What follows is a celebration of the beauty, grace, and elegance of the remarkable animals that we call snakes. Thirty-four species inhabit the Middle San Pedro Valley. Here is a sampling of a few that I have had the delight to encounter…
A Sonoran coralsnake, (Micruroides euryxanthus), a highly fossorial, nocturnal, (and therefore seldom-seen) species. The striking aposematic coloration of these beautiful reptiles is a clear warning to many would-be predators. Bites from these small snakes are very rare – and very serious. The venom is primarily neurotoxic; drop-for-drop, it outdoes any other southwestern snake for sheer potency.Sonoran coralsnakes are small, (rarely over two feet in length) shy, and retiring, preferring to hide their heads when threatened rather than strike defensively.
Gophersnakes, (Pituophis cantenifer), are Arizona’s longest serpent, capable of reaching lengths of over eight feet. These powerful constrictors are experts at preying on rodents. A special scale armors the front of their snout, enabling them to push through soil in rodent tunnels with ease. Gophersnakes play a key role in landscape-scale ecology by controlling rodent populations. This also makes them an ally to ranchers and farmers.
Sadly, many are killed by ignorant people who mistake them for rattlesnakes, and many more are intentionally killed by drivers, brutal acts that are a mark of cruel, simple-minded people.
While gophersnakes are common in Arizona, this one is very rare due to the aberrant patterning on the upper parts of its body. The usual dorsal blotches have been replaced by long, striped markings. Glossy snakes, (Arizona elegans), are quite common in the Middle San Pedro Valley. This species can attain lengths approaching six feet. At a glance, it is not hard to confuse these snakes with gophersnakes.
A Sonoran lyresnake, (Trimorphodon lambda), curled up against the wall of my adobe residence. Lyresnakes are fascinating; their large eyes feature vertically elliptical pupils, whereas most of our other snakes have round pupils. This is a nocturnally active species whose its diet is composed primarily of lizards. Lyresnakes don’t have injectable venom; instead, they secrete venom from glands in the rear of their mouths that is very toxic to lizards – but not to humans.
A typical “pink” coachwhip, (Masticophis flagellum). Coachwhips are often erroneously called “racers” or “red racers” by local residents. Coahwhips are phenomenal creatures, the true “über predators” of the southwest. Equipped with large eyes capable of exceptional long-distance acuity, coachwhips are the desert’s fastest snakes, and are surely among the fastest in the world. These are extremely alert reptiles that specialize on hunting lizards but will also consume a wide variety of other prey items. Coachwhips occur here in three color phases, with intergrades as well. The pink phase predominates locally.
I spotted this long-nosed snake, (Rhinocheilus lecontei), crawling across the dirt floor of our open shed on a warm, early summer morning. Its vivid colors and patterning are a reminder that snakes can be very beautiful creatures.
Long-nosed snakes occur in southern Arizona in two main color morphs. This is the other one, a completely different mix of colors and patterns compared to the individual above.
A California kingsnake, (Lampropeltis californiae). To me, this is one of the most beautiful snakes in Arizona, combining a chain-like pattern of cream-yellow bands set against a glossy, satin-black background. Kingsnakes are snake specialists, actively hunting many other species including rattlesnakes – kingsnakes are immune to their venoms. In addition to snakes, other foods include small rodents, eggs, and lizards.
A desert kingsnake, (Lampropeltis splendida) This species occurs locally in two primary color phases – the one pictured here is the most common. Some desert kingsnakes exhibit melanistic (all black pigmentation) coloration.Checkered gartersnakes, (Thamnophis marcianus) prefer habitats near water sources such as streams and ponds, where one of their favorite types of prey can be found most reliably – amphibians. Three species of garter snakes inhabit the San Pedro River Basin.
Rattlesnakes are the victims of more prejudice and brutal cruelty from people than all other American snakes – most often, the prejudice and cruelty arise from deep ignorance. We tend to overlook the comforting fact that rattlesnakes are among the very few toxic snakes on Earth that give us the courtesy of a warning. This western diamond-backed rattlesnake, (Crotalus atrox), is one of several that I see quite often around our buildings. Bites from this potent species are very serious, but also very rare IF one simply pays constant, close attention to where one’s feet and hands are placed when outdoors. We never kill these snakes, (nor any others, for that matter). Most diamondbacks are shy and inoffensive if left alone. Quite abundant in many habitat types, diamondbacks play a very important role in local ecology by helping to control rodent populations.
Of the world’s 36 species of known rattlesnakes, surely the black-tailed rattlesnake, (Crotalus molossus), would win one of the top prizes for sheer beauty. My wife and I spent half and hour watching and photographing this unagressive, beguiling individual. We found it basking, suspended several feet off the ground among tree branches in a walnut – velvet mesquite bosque. This one was large for its kind, close to 48 inches in length.
I had to radically adjust my search image for local rattlesnakes when I uncovered this snake in our shed, an Arizona black rattlesnake, (Crotalus cerberus), curled up beneath an inverted wheelbarrow. Before that moment, my search image had concerned itself only with the grays and dull browns of western diamondbacks; black rattlesnakes were not “known” to inhabit low-elevation places like our valley-floor bosque, situated at 3,100 feet. Since then, I have recorded this species locally several more times.
The Mohave rattlesnake, (Crotalus scutulatus), is the most potent rattlesnake in the entire American west, injecting substantial amounts of strong neurotoxic venom when it bites. This one emerged from under a stack of lumber that I had been working with, furnishing an unforgettable reminder that only fools slip their hands under wood stacked outdoors without looking carefully beforehand.
The most reliable way to visually identify Mohave rattlesnakes is to get a close look at their supraocular scales that lie atop the head between the snake’s eyes. It is difficult to do this safely without a good pair of binoculars with close-focusing ability. Diamondbacks can look quite similar to Mojave rattlesnakes, but their supraocular scales are much smaller and more numerous. Adding to identification difficulties, the two species have been known to hybridize in Cochise County.
Small and inoffensive, ring-necked snakes, (Diadophis punctatus) are common in the San Pedro River Drainage.
When threatened by a predator, ring-necked snakes may flip themselves upside-down, feigning death while revealing their striking, aposematically-colored ventral side.
Eastern patch-nosed snakes, (Salvadora grahamiae) feel like smooth satin when handled. This species is always among the earliest to emerge when the weather begins to warm in the valley, often above ground by mid-March. Note the heavy scale at the proximal end of the snake’s head, armoring for its snout as it digs underground in loose soils.
Upon lifting a pile of old branches and debris one day, I exposed this incredibly tiny snake, a highly fossorial species I had never seen before.
My first thought was, “I never knew earthworms lived on our bosque,” until I looked closer and picked it up. Coiled in my palm with room to spare was this amazing western threadsnake, (Rena humilis). Threadsnakes prey on ants, ant eggs, ant larvae, and termites. They are a favorite prey item for Sonoran coralsnakes.
Replace ignorance with knowledge. Be kind to snakes.
The lightning bolt slammed into the ground with thousands of times the force and speed of a sledgehammer blow on an anvil. It struck so close to me that I heard no thunder, only the unmistakably loud, monstrously powerful “snap” that is characteristic of a bolt that hits far too near to its observer. I had been sitting on my bed reading when it happened; I knew instantly what had occurred, for this was not the first time that lightning had struck so close to me that no thunder could be heard. Many years as a guide in the wilderness mountains of Montana had brought me into near-contact with lightning along high ridges at timber line more than a few times. It is one of nature’s most lethal forces when it strikes living creatures, but the other side of lightning is that it is one of the world’s most quintessentially important life-giving phenomena. For the full story, see pages 204-205 in my book, The Life of the San Pedro River. The next morning, I found the place where the bolt had impacted. A tape measure revealed that the lightning had struck 53 feet away. The electromagnetic pulse from that bolt fried our telephone system and our computer router.
The storms of this year’s monsoon season in southern Arizona have been wonderful – thus far, our rain gauge has registered 9.56 inches of rain since mid-June, resulting in a grand resurgence of life all across this hot and formerly dry landscape.
On the morning of August 20, a serious storm pounded the ground with so much rain that the area around our buildings became an unbroken sheet of water. I could hear toads starting to call from our overflowing bird pond. Before long, dozens of spadefoot toads came out of their underground lairs to join in the party, all of them hopping and swimming through the flooded landscape in beelines toward the pond. This was a critical time for the amphibians, for in a normal year, they get only one or two brief chances to breed. It was also a rare sight, for I have never seen such activity in the daytime…but this was a doozy of a storm.
Mavis – the female half of the raven pair that we share habitat with – takes shelter from the storm under the roof of our shed.
As the rain subsided, I stepped outside. I heard the familiar roar of one of our local washes that had become engorged with flood water. A short walk of a quarter mile took me to a place where I could look down from the edge of a vertical cutbank at the flowing wash…
The view from the cutbank after 2.6 inches of rain from a single storm swelled Hot Springs Wash with roiling floodwaters. Only a single channel is visible in this image. The waters braided across the broad wash floor in an ever-changing – and growing – number of channels. Powerful floods are characteristic of desert washes with large drainage areas (this wash drains an area of about 100 square miles) and steep slopes in their headwater areas.
Next, I walked over to see what was going on in the little pond – there were eight pairs of Couch’s spadefoot toads in amplexus! A couple days later, after thousands of toad eggs hatched, our pond was teeming with wriggling throngs of tiny tadpoles.
Couch’s spadefoot toads mating in our pond. Each female usually lays hundreds of tiny eggs during such couplings, as the male releases sperm into the water.After the mating frenzy, myriad spadefoot eggs clung to every blade of grass afloat in the water.
Later in the day, Kathleen and I walked down the road to have a look at where the big wash crosses the road. The sound of the flood grew loud as we approached a point where we could see the flow, over 300 feet in width. The dirt road – the only road that serves the entire valley – had become impassable once again. In the midst of the turbulent flow, where the waters ran deepest, trees were being tossed around like toys, ripped from their root-bound moorings as they sped downslope toward the San Pedro River. Hundreds of tons of sediment, gravel, and rocks were being transported toward the floor of the valley in a rip-roaring tumult of rain water.
A view of the flood as it obliterated the roadway where it crosses the usually dry bed of Hot Springs Wash. During the twenty summers that I have seen this wash respond to rainfall events, only twice have I witnessed it running larger than this.
As we were watching the floodwaters, I climbed to a higher vantage point, where I discovered this beautiful Sonoran gopher snake. The snake allowed me to gently approach within a foot or so. This was a fine specimen, over 5 1/2 feet in length.
A few hours later, the sun had melted down into the nether regions of the western horizon. My wife and I walked outside around 11:00pm to listen to the night sounds. After turning off our flashlights, we witnessed something that is seldom seen here – fireflies!! Few of Earth’s creatures are capable of instilling such an immediate and compelling sense of awe and wonder as fireflies are. They were emitting distinctive, paired flashes of remarkably bright green light – in so doing, they identified themselves down to the species level. We were seeing southwestern synchronous fireflies, Photinus knulli.
A couple of days after the big storm, I walked down to the San Pedro River. Many areas within the river’s drainage had received substantial rains, bringing the river to life. Here, el Río is surging along with a flow roughly 180 feet in breadth and over six feet in depth.
Downstream, a group of turkey vultures was roosting in a pair of dead cottonwood trees. Dead trees are an essential and important component of all forested areas on Earth. All too often, humans fail to recognize this aspect of our planet’s ecology. Our culture – embedded in the ecologically dangerous Abrahamic concept of land use – (the land is here to produce our milk and honey, for human use) – tends to see dead trees as “going to waste.” “Salvage logging” of our national forests after wildfires is an exemplification this anthropocentric view of our living world.
The rainy season brings twilight flights of thousands of buprestid beetles just above the canopy of our local mesquite bosques. Here, a very rare sight unfolds as a female Polycesta aruentis everts her ovipositor to lay her delicate eggs deep within the sheltering crack of a mesquite stump, where they will be out of reach of the sun’s touch. Her larvae will hatch to bore their way through the wood, leaving tunnels in their wake that greatly facilitate the entry of fungi and other agents of decomposition. Thus, insects like this play a critically important role in forest ecology.
A half-grown (about four inches in length) Sonoran desert toad enjoys our bird pond after a rain. These amphibians grow to prodigious sizes. If I am not mistaken, they are the heaviest toads native to North America.
Living in remote parts of the desert southwest demands some important learned behaviors. Only fools step outside without looking first. This diamondback had just finished crawling across my entry steps when I took this photo. Snakes of all kinds are always welcome on our property – but continuous caution when one ventures outdoors is an imperative part of living here.
It has been a very long time since I posted a new entry on this blog. I feel that I owe my readers an explanation. Why no new blog posts? I have been deeply depressed for months – and depressed writers don’t write. In terms of what has been causing this lasting depression, it is a small avalanche of things…the unjustified furor over the most recent presidential election. The insurrection – one of the most unpatriotic acts I ever known to mar my country’s history. The widespread denial of science by millions of Americans. The pandemic – ranking the United States as the world leader in Covid deaths – an inexcusable national embarrassment. Mass shootings -another ghastly national embarrassment, as we lead all other nations on Earth by a very wide margin with respect to such violent, maniacal acts. The mounting gullibility of our populace coupled with a concerted effort by millions to divide a great nation. The horrific war in Ukraine…and there is plenty more, but I will keep the rest private.
As it has been throughout my life, the world of nature has been a source of peace, calm, reassurance, and sanity during these deeply troubled times. I am so grateful to live far away from towns and cities in a rural setting where birdsong, wildlife, a lack of crowding, and sunlight feed my soul.
So, what is going on in the Middle San Pedro River Valley lately? The landscape is very dry, even by desert standards. The usual winter rains were both scarce and weak, resulting in an entire region whose mesquite bosques sprouted no green understory plants, a valley floor bereft of the normal growth of winter grasses, perennial reaches of the river receding, and uplands nearly devoid of spring wildflowers.
The bright crimson fruits of Christmas cactus, Cylindropuntia leptocaulis, bring color to a desperately dry landscape. This species is of special benefit to wildlife, for it retains these nutritious fruits throughout autumn, winter, and into the following spring, even in a very dry year like this one. Indigenous peoples made common use of the fruits of this cactus as a food source.
As far as avian life goes, I have never witnessed such a paucity of birds here, both in terms of species diversity and numbers. Numerous migratory species, birds that I have regularly observed every spring for 20 years, simply did not appear, or appeared in very low numbers. There were no back-throated grey warblers, no orange-crowned or Virginia’s warblers, no Empidonax flycatchers. I recorded the presence of only one Townsend’s warbler during migration, and there were startlingly low numbers of normally abundant yellow-rumped warblers. Rufous-winged sparrows, a common fixture here, are entirely absent from our property this year for the first time ever. On the positive side of things, we now have three dazzling male varied buntings visiting our water dishes daily, two more than any other prior year had provided. Our resident ravens, Mike and Mavis, hatched out a clutch of four a few months ago, just 100 feet from my office window. That brood fell victim to a group of coyotes on the very first night that they left the nest. The determined parents have since built a new nest on a nearby property, a place where the landowner is very appreciative of the local wildlife. Mavis is busy incubating her second clutch of eggs in a safe place…
Even the local reptiles – especially the snakes – have been few and far between this summer. A few weeks ago, one of our local diamondbacks appeared at our bird pond to drink and grab a feathered meal or two.
This western diamondback – a familiar individual – appeared in May, visiting our bird-watering pond.I have come to recognize several of the rattlesnakes whose ranges include the area close to our buildings. My sharp-eyed wife pointed out the distinctive, fused blotches on this snake’s tail. With close observation, nearly all rattlesnakes can be recognized as distinct individuals – the patterning and shape of the blotches on the back, and especially markings on the heads and tails of rattlesnakes make it possible to readily identify individuals.I have seen diamondbacks lay in wait at the edge of our little pond, but very rarely do I see them partially submerged like this.
During the hot months in southeastern Arizona, any water source attracts wildlife of all sorts. Simply maintaining a few water dishes does wonders for throngs of very thirsty birds, reptiles, mammals, and more. Our “bird pond” is nothing more than a shallow depression dug into the ground, fed by a trickling garden hose; very simple to set up and maintain. It would take pages of text to tell all the tales of the remarkable diversity of living creatures that have availed themselves of this water source over the years.
Box turtles have come out of hiding. This one waded into the shallow pond to cool off and rehydrate itself via some long drinks.A herd of well over 20 javelina visit here daily – here a mother drinks water from the pond while her youngster suckles milk.
Last, but surely not least, as I began to assemble this new blog post on the evening of June 10th, raindrops began pelting the roof! This was no “teaser” rain, no ten-second-this-is-all-you-get rain, but a prolonged rain that wetted the dusty ground and left small puddles in its wonderful wake. This is a rare event, so early in June. Desert life benefits from the gift of every precious drop.
I have seen more rattlesnakes around our home this summer than ever before. During the past six weeks, not a single day has passed when I have not seen at least one western diamondback here – on several days, I have seen as many as four. I don’t mind their presence. This would be a very dull world if it were danger – free, cleansed of any creatures that might harm us. The snakes have a right to be here – this land is not just habitat for me and my family, but habitat that we share with many other living things.
Yesterday morning brought a surprise that lay snoozing a few feet from my doorway. It was yet another rattlesnake, but the instant I saw this one, I knew it was not a western diamondback, but a Mojave rattlesnake.
Most of the time, when I spot a poisonous serpent close to our home, I simply leave it alone. Given this snake’s proximity to an area that gets frequent daily foot travel, and the extreme toxicity of its venom, I decided to relocate it. I picked the rattlesnake up with a pair of snake tongs, lowered it into an empty trash can, and hauled it to a new home downriver. During the entire procedure, the snake shook its tail only once, and briefly at that.
I knew immediately when I saw this snake under the ramada that it was a Mojave. The greenish-yellowish tinge to its skin stands out in contrast to the local western diamondbacks, whose coloration tends to be more silvery gray. Note also the sawtoothed edging to the snake’s dorsal blotches. Our diamondbacks rarely show such edges on their “diamonds,” or dorsal blotches.
How toxic is this snake’s venom? Some sources say the venom of Mojave rattlesnakes is ten times more potent than that of other rattlesnakes. (There is one notable exception here – tiger rattlesnakes, which also occur in the Middle San Pedro Valley, are nearly as potent as Mojaves.) Other sources label this species as one of the most toxic snakes in the entire hemisphere. That is saying a lot, especially considering some of the elapid snakes that live in Central and South America. As if that were not enough, research has demonstrated that the Mojave rattlesnakes that inhabit Cochise County produce a unique venom that is even more potent than that of other Mojave rattlesnakes in other parts of their range. Rattlesnake venoms are complex organic cocktails consisting of many ingredients including proteins, polypeptides, metal ions, fats, enzymes, and more. Most rattlesnake species have hemotoxic venoms – venoms that destroy red blood cells, interfere with clotting, and damage tissue. The principal components of Mojave venom are neurotoxic – they act on the central nervous system. A bite from one of these snakes can cause severe paralysis and even cardiac arrest.
So yes, I decided to move the snake away from our home.
This Mojave rattlesnake was captured and relocated by a warm-hearted friend a few years ago; he brought the snake to here to show it to me before releasing it back into the wild. This snake was on his doorstep as well, better relocated than shot or clubbed to death.
Much like sharks or grizzly bears, rattlesnakes are widely misunderstood and unjustly feared by the public. These fears are rooted in ignorance and a cultural bias regarding the world of nature and our place in it. Here in Arizona, where rattlesnakes are common and widespread, more than half of all bites are provoked. (Yes, Darwin was right!) Most of the remaining bites could be easily avoided by a combination of unflagging awareness, protective footwear, and snake gaiters. Awareness means keeping one’s eyes fixed carefully on the ground when moving around outdoors, and always using flashlights after dark. If you look carefully where you are going, you are much less likely to step too close to a snake. When I hike locally during the warm months, I always wear a pair of leather boots and snake gaiters. Simple precautions can really pay off.
Identification of Mojave rattlesnakes is not always a simple task; occasionally, these snakes hybridize with western diamondbacks. They also come in many differing shades of color. The most certain identifying characteristic are the two large scales atop the snake’s head that lie in-between its supraocular scales – (the very large scales that cover
the upper portion of the snake’s eyes). Western diamondbacks usually have six or seven much smaller scales between their supraoculars.
If a person does get bitten, it is imperative to get medical help as soon as possible. Time is utterly crucial when it comes to treating snakebite victims. In this rural landscape, that means a helicopter flight to a hospital in Tucson. The average cost of treating a bite victim has risen to over $75,000 per incident. With that in mind, I think that a small investment in a pair of snake gaiters (most cost less than $100 per pair) and some good boots is a very wise move.
Tail markings are also useful in identification. Mojave rattlesnakes usually show narrower, less distinct black banding on their tails than diamondback rattlesnakes.In contrast, most western diamondbacks have considerably wider, distinct black bands on their tails.
In closing this post, I must say that I do not recommend relocating reptiles. For rattlesnakes, relocation beats getting killed, but is stressful to them, and can result in an inability to survive. Rattlesnakes occupy definitive home ranges, areas that they come to know and navigate through successfully. One of the most critical aspects of their lives has to do with knowing where a suitable site is for hibernation. (The correct term in use these days is “brumation,” not “hibernation.” I used the old term because many more people are familiar with it.) If a snake cannot find its way to such a site, it is not likely to survive the winter. Relocated snakes have been documented to have problems with this, especially if they are moved late in autumn.
Arizona’s spectacular monsoon season is in full swing this year. Here in the Middle San Pedro River Valley, we have received 7.28 inches of life-giving rain during the past seven weeks. Life of all kinds is emerging, much of it empowered by this season alone.
The strikingly beautiful Gila monster pictured above was photographed by my wife Kathleen just days ago. (One more reminder to my readers: if you don’t see that image, it is because you are viewing this in your email. Always go to my blog site – https://ralphwaldt.com – to see this post as I intended it, without omissions.) It is one of many desert animals whose activity increases or otherwise changes as a result of monsoon weather.
The world we live in has been under deep duress this past year; the global pandemic, political division, economic hardship, and numerous worldwide catastrophes have all combined to make many people feel stressed and depressed. That is the anthropocentric world. A wider view – beyond the human-centric world that we pay so much attention to – encompasses the rest of the planet’s glorious and infinitely varied life. When I feel overloaded after viewing the day’s headlines, I can always find a source of solace, reassurance, and joy simply by abandoning the vicarious, shallow world of my computer screen in favor of the outdoor world. All it takes is a few steps outside. Sunlight, vivid green plants, lizards, trees, bird song, fresh air… the real world is medicine for the soul.
One does not need to live in a rural area like I do in order to tap into the natural world. I have a friend who lives in suburbia, along the fringes of the immensity known as Dallas-Fort Worth. He spends time in his backyard where trees, shrubs, and a garden bring life and happiness into his world. There are no bears, cougars, or Gila monsters in his yard like there are here – but there is a diverse variety of life. My friend focuses his attention on smaller creatures and other forms of life; insects, lizards, and flowering plants, for example. He photographs what he sees – things that most people never even notice. The photographs from his back yard are often stunning, revealing a world remarkably rich in life captured by a talented, artistic photographer whose sharp observational skills remind us that life is everywhere, and that life is beyond beautiful.
With those thoughts in mind, I offer a series of recent images taken during the heart of the monsoon season here in the Middle San Pedro Valley of southeastern Arizona…
My wife, Kathleen, encountered this Gila monster as it was attempting to cross a public roadway. She did the right thing – she pulled off the side of the road, turned on her hazard lights, and stood by, ready to usher the lizard out of harm’s way should a speeding motorist arrive on the scene. As the Gila monster made it safely off of the pavement, it turned to face Kathleen and her camera, then ambled off into the desert. The lizard was lucky this time. Large numbers of reptiles are killed on Arizona’s roads every day, many of them by people who are fast drivers and/or simply harbor callous attitudes towards reptiles. All it takes to avoid such losses is slower speed and a modicum of care for the life we share the planet with.
A single feather laying in front of our ramada had a story to tell: a great horned owl had landed there the night prior, likely as it pounced on a prey item.
Mornings that follow monsoon rain storms often reveal the nocturnal work of encruster termites. These tiny insects encrust plant stems (or in this case, mesquite beans) with a mixture of soil particles and viscous saliva, then feed on the encapsulated items. Termites are exceptionally important components of this ecosystem; they are very numerous, widespread, and perform a crucial ecological function by breaking down plant cellulose, thus returning essential nutrients to the soil.
Some two decades ago, I first tasted wolfberries – they were delicious. Native peoples gathered these berries as a seasonal food source. A large number of birds and mammals utilize them as a high-calorie-per-unit-weight food source, packed with natural sugars. This plant is of the genus Lycium.
Summer raindrops adorn the fresh blossom of an Arizona poppy plant, Kallstroemia grandiflora.
One of the valley’s most common summer wildflowers is also among its most beautiful; trailing four o’clock, Allionia incarnata.The emergent blooms of a barrel cactus. These cacti rely on summer rains for their annual reproductive efforts.
Silver-leaf nightshade – Solanum elaeagnifolium – always a joy to encounter, this native plant is grouped in the same botanical family as tomatoes, but it is not safe for human consumption.Tarantulas are common here, but can be seen with any frequency only during the monsoon season, when lower daytime temperatures and increased humidity bring them out of hiding. If left alone, these are harmless, innocuous creatures.
Caterpillars of the white-lined sphinx moth (and other native Sphingicampid moths) are very common sights during summers graced by monsoonal moisture. When mature, they reach a size approximating that of a person’s index finger.A few days prior, I encountered this mating pair of diamondback rattlesnakes just outside my shop door. Courtship and mating in this species is a process that can go on for several days.
Another diamondback appeared here last week, a large individual. This snake is quite rotund in the latter half of its body – I’d guess that it was a gravid female. Snakes are a valuable asset here, for they are a major help in controlling rodent populations. Mice and rats in southern Arizona could win gold medals for their ability to get into vehicle engines, where they cause frequent and very expensive problems. Puffballs sprout from the floor of our mesquite bosque with great speed after summer rainfalls. Puffballs are specifically designed to work with rain. First, an initial rain is required to soak the soil. This enables the spherical mushrooms to sprout above the surface. Puffballs quickly mature, then wait for the next rainfall to facilitate their reproduction. When raindrops impact a puffball, they cause a sudden increase in internal pressure, forcing thousands of minuscule spores to erupt (or “puff” like smoke) out of the hole in the top of the mushroom. By releasing its spores only in response to falling rain, the fungus assures that freshly moistened soil is available the enhanced survival and successful growth of its offspring. Pretty cool or what?
9/13/2020 The past week has brought us many fascinating sights and sounds here in our southeastern Arizona landscape. One of my neighbors discovered a very young ornate box turtle on his property just a few days ago. For almost two decades, I have been seeing ornate box turtles in this valley, but something soon became puzzling about them.
Box turtles this tiny are a very rare sight locally. Box turtle photos courtesy of Gilbert Urias.
In all my time here, I have yet to see a single individual that is not of adult size. No hatchlings, no young, no pint-sized box turtles. I have thought for some time that they have been having trouble reproducing successfully in this area, so these images are nice to see!
A giant mesquite bug, clinging to my screen door. The “screening” is actually 1/8-inch hardware cloth, giving a good depiction of the scale of this lumbering insect.
A giant mesquite bug (Thasus neocalifornicus) appeared on our screen door. This actually is a true bug, a Hemipteran. The growth stages of this large insect involve several iterations as bright red social nymphs. Only in their final stage of their development do these insects become solitary and grow wings that enable flight.
Mike the Raven came to visit us this morning, as always. A full essay about him and his mate, Mavis, appears in my new book, The Life of the San Pedro River.
This has been a stellar week for bird sightings. Many migrant species are passing through, or arriving to spend the winter. Among the new arrivals here the past week have been calliope, rufous, Allen’s, broad-tailed, and Anna’s hummingbirds, Nashville, black-throated gray, Townsend’s, Virginia’s, and Wilson’s warblers, lazuli, varied, and indigo buntings, Brewer’s, clay-colored, vesper, chipping, and savannah sparrows, a lark bunting, and more. This morning, as always, our resident pair of ravens, Mike and Mavis, came to visit, along with a female Cooper’s hawk that spent many minutes bathing in one of our bird watering dishes.
This Cooper’s hawk arrived during mid-morning to scatter a group of feeding songbirds.
Cooper’s hawks are exceptionally agile, quick, alert predators that fly with more than enough finesse to catch songbirds on the wing in dense cover. When small birds go to sleep for the night, Cooper’s hawks must color their nightmares!
Perched in a velvet mesquite tree, the hawk dried and preened its feathers.Not far from where the hawk was bathing, this western diamondback rattlesnake lay coiled in a typical, circular resting position, not easy to see in the undergrowth.
Our days have been very hazy this week, the sunsets a surreal deep, dusky orange, even the moon has glazed over with smoky orange hues. For Arizonans, the smoke-filled skies are a daily reminder of the horrors that are transpiring in neighboring California as the worst fire season in history wreaks utter havoc across the state. My heart goes out to all Californians, for I know what it is like to suddenly leave home not knowing if it will be there upon our return. Huge wildfires and evacuations were a part of our lives more than a few times when we lived in Montana. May the people of California stay out of harm’s way, and may the rains come!
Three days ago, I awoke in the morning to find an interesting story written in the fine dusty soil that forms the floor of a three-sided outdoor shed on our property. One side of the building is open and often attracts snakes to enter, where they find hiding places in the shady interior. A look at the ground told me that a pair of rattlesnakes had been courting and possibly mating there the night prior. I spotted them shortly thereafter, only a few feet away, resting together. As I watched, the male snake would crawl over the top of the female while making short, forward jabs of his chin along her back. These snakes have evolved a very tactile courtship behavior. If stimulated for a sufficient length of time, the female will usually allow the male to mate. Viable sperm is stored in the female to produce young the following spring. Western diamondbacks also mate in the spring and give birth later in summer. What amazed me about this pair was that this courtship has continued for nearly three days!
The female is partially obscured and at rest here, as the male continues to crawl over her…
The track patterns that appeared in the morning strongly suggested that they were made by courting diamondbacks.
