Our recent warm weather has brought out all kinds of creatures, including Northern Water Snakes (Nerodia sipedon). On Wednesday I spotted my first Northern Water Snake of the day as I was sitting on a rock, taking a break alongside a stream. When I spotted it, the snake was swimming vigorously downstream and the first photo captured some of the sinuous movement of the snake’s body. I lost sight of the snake as it approached a series of cascades and was not able to see how the snake handled them
Later that same day I spotted another snake at a small pond. This Northern Water Snake had hidden its body in the debris at the edge of the pond, with just its head visible above the water. This snake was alert and seemed to be in a hunting mode, so I kept my distance and watched the snake carefully as I took the second shot below. Although I know that Northern Water Snakes are not venomous, I remember reading that their bites are painful and that their saliva contains an anticoagulant that causes bites to bleed profusely.
It is not unusual to see turtles in a row on a log, basking in the sunlight. Normally, though, the log is horizontal. In the case of the turtles that I spotted last week at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge, the large fallen branch on which they were perched was sticking out of the water at an angle. The turtles, especially the one in the front, had to climb upwards on the branch and secure themselves firmly to keep from sliding back into the water.
I really like the way that this image turned out. I managed to capture the texture of the bark and of the turtles’ shells and the reflections were a nice bonus. The limited color palette allows the viewer to focus on the shapes and textures without being distracted by bright colors. It is a simple, almost abstract image, characteristics shared by many of my favorite photos.
Most of the turtles that I see are either Painted Turtles or Red-eared Sliders, so I am delighted when I spot a member of another turtle species. Last Wednesday I was thrilled to spot several Spotted Turtles (Clemmys guttata), a relatively uncommon turtle species in my area. Spotted turtles tend to be found in marshy areas rather than in ponds, and it was indeed in a small wetland area at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge that I photographed this turtle.
Species names can sometimes feel confusing or inappropriate, but the name of “Spotted Turtle” is perfect for these turtles that, as you can see in the photos below, have small yellow spots on their bodies and shells. For the first time this season I was walking around with my 180mm macro lens attached to my camera, hoping to photograph some butterflies, dragonflies, or other insects, but I came up empty-handed in that regard. I was happy, though, to be able to get a few shots of these little Spotted Turtles, perched on a log as they basked in the warmth of a sunny March day.
I was delighted yesterday to see that some of the turtles at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge were taking advantage of the spring-like weather to bask in the sun. I believe that the turtles spend most of their time in the mud at the bottom of the pond during the winter and in you can see mud still caked on the back of at least one of the turtles in the photo.
I think that the four turtles on the left are Red-eared Sliders (Trachemys scripta elegans) and the two on the right may be Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta). I spotted a few small flies buzzing about yesterday, but it is almost certainly too early for my beloved dragonflies to appear. Several butterfly species, including the Mourning Cloak, overwinter as adults, so there is a chance that I will see one in the coming days.
When the winter weather warms up a little and there is abundant sunlight, turtles will sometimes come up out of the mud at the bottom of the pond to bask in the sun. Last Friday I made a short visit to Green Spring Gardens, a historic county-run garden in Northern Virginia, and spotted this turtle at the edge of a small pond. I think it may be a Red-eared Slider (Trachemys scripta elegans), although the turtle was so far away and covered in mud that I am not sure of the identification.
Turtles enter into a period of dormancy know as “brumation” when the weather gets cold. According to the ReptileKnowHow website, “When red-eared sliders brumate, they do not eat or defecate and they remain almost completely motionless for long periods. Their metabolic rate reduces to a minimum, reducing all vital functions – even breathing to the strictly necessary.” I don’t know all of the technical differences between hibernation and brumation, but I believe that the former term is reserved for warm-blooded creatures and the latter term for cold-blooded ones.
On Monday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge I stumbled upon a pair of Eastern Garter Snakes (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis). Their bodies were intertwined and were undulating. Now I do not know much about the mating practices of snakes, but I assume that was what they were doing.
I got down really low to take the first shot, which gives a close-up view of the head of one of the snakes that appears to be smiling—I believe that this one, which is clearly the smaller of the two, is the male snake.
According to an article by Sue Pike, “Garter snakes bear live young instead of laying eggs. In fact, in most live-bearing snakes, the females are considerably larger than the males. Since a larger female can carry more babies, and larger litter size mean a greater chance of survival for some of the offspring; natural selection will favor larger females. Females also tend to be more bulky and less active than males since they need to conserve their energy for reproduction. Males tend to be skinnier, more active and smaller than the females because, in the wild, their excess energy is used to chase females.”
The second shot shows the bodies of the two snakes when I came upon them—they look almost like they were braided together. I encourage you to click on the image to get a closer look at the beautiful patterns on the bodies of these snakes.
As I was making a little video of the two snakes, they were joined by a third garter snake. This snake, which I think is another male, slithered along the entire length of the intertwined bodies, looking for an opening. Somehow I thought the new snake would be more aggressive, but he was actually quite gentle. He ended up with his body stretched out as part of the intricate braid.
I have embedded the one-minute-long YouTube video at the end of this posting. In the video you can see the undulating bodies of the two snakes and the arrival and subsequent actions of the third snake. If you cannot see the embedded video, you can use this link (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgKIKLVeOVg) to access it directly on YouTube.
When the weather turns warm and sunny, it is not uncommon for me to spot Common Five-lined Skinks (Plestiodon fasciatus), one of the few lizards that are present in my area. Most of the time I see them on the trunks of trees or on fallen logs, but occasionally I will see one on a man-made structure that has crevices and overhangs where they can hide.
Skinks are skittish and will scamper away if they detect my presence, so I have to be super stealthy in approaching them to get a shot. In the case of these photos, I was at the edge of a small pond at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge last week looking for dragonflies when some movement on a nearby concrete fishing platform caught my eye. The skink had just crawled out of the shadows and was surveying the area when I captured these images.
Juvenile skinks have blue tails and there appears to be some blue on the tail that is especially visible in the second photo, so I am guessing that it is almost a full-grown adult. Some scientists believe that the blue color functions as a decoy, diverting the attention of predators to this “expendable part” of the body—the tail is detachable and regrows if it is lost. Other scientists propose that the blue coloration serves to inhibit attacks by aggressive adult males, who might otherwise view the juveniles as rivals.
If you are curious and would like to see a photo of the blue tail of a juvenile skink, check out this 2021 blog posting entitled Juvenile Skink in April.
Some people speak figuratively about a “snake in the grass,” but that is literally what I encountered last Friday at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden in Richmond, Virginia. The Northern Water Snake (Nerodia sipedon) was moving about in a grass patch at the edge of a small stream when I first spotted it.
When the snake raised its head to look around, I got down low and moved closer. How close was I? I was using a relatively long macro lens, which makes it look like I was closer than I actually was, but I was close enough that you can see my reflection in the snake’s eye. The second image image is merely a cropped version of the first image that lets you focus more closely on the eye.
Photographically, though, I prefer the first image. I like the way that I was able to capture blurry grass in both the foreground and the background. The rocky area at the bottom of the image helps to ground the snake and provides a sense of the environment.
I recognize that some people find snakes to be creepy, but I am fascinated by them. It was interesting to note that as I was moving closer to the snake when I saw it, others were moving farther away from it.
It was relatively warm on Monday and there was occasional sunshine, so I ventured out to Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge to see if I could find any late season dragonflies. I came up empty-handed when it came to dragonflies, but was quite surprised when I spotted this snake sunning itself along one of the trails at the refuge. I figured that all of the snakes in the area would have already begun their long winter naps.
Several years ago I learned that snakes do not actually hibernate, but enter into a similar state known as brumation where they become less active and their metabolism slows down tremendously and they sleep for long periods of time. They will, however, wake up to forage for food and water and if a sudden warm snap occurs and temperatures rise for a few days at a time. When the weather cools back down, they will go back into their brumation state once again.
I have never been very good in identifying dark-colored snakes in my area. I think that this might be a Northern Water Snake (Nerodia sipedon), but there is also a chance that it might be a Northern Black Racer (Coluber constrictor constrictor) or an Eastern Ratsnake (Pantherophis alleghaniensis). Whatever the case, I like the way that I was able to capture the different textures of the environment and the snake in this mini-portrait.
The weather has turned cold again, with the possibility of snow showers today. I am pretty sure that this snake has gone back to sleep by now, waiting for the next warm spell to reappear.
It is hard to believe that it is already November. Rather than rushing boldly forward, I think that I will ease my way slowly into the new month, following the example of this Eastern Box Turtle (Terrapene carolina carolina) that I spotted last Thursday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I believe this is a female box turtle—females of this species, which are also known as Woodland Box Turtles, generally have brown eyes, while the males most often have bright red eyes.
This Woodland Box Turtle, a species that is also known as an Eastern Box Turtle (Terrapene carolina carolina) was chilling out in the grass at the edge of a trail when I spotted it last week at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. It was not moving about very much, but I could sense a real intensity in its bright red eyes.
In order to capture this shot, I got down as low as I could, though I was not quite low enough to be at eye level with the turtle. I was quite happy to be able to capture a lot of detail in the shell and in the portion of the head sticking out of the shell. I encourage you to click on the image to get a closer view of the wonderful details of this strikingly handsome box turtle.
I love the way that this trio of turtles had arrayed themselves on the trunk of a fallen tree last Friday at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge. The beautiful reflections they cast on the surface of the pond were a nice bonus. I could not help but note that they all are looking in the same direction—perhaps they all were facing into the sun or simply decided that I would prefer a profile shot to one of the back of their heads.
I was a bit startled on Tuesday when I spotted this small, pale snake as I was walking along a trail at Occoquan Regional Park. In the first place, I am not used to seeing a snake at waist level, coiled up atop the vegetation. Secondly, I have never seen a snake that looked like this one. Was it a young snake of a familiar species?
I did some research and determined that it is almost certainly a DeKay’s Brown Snake (Storeria dekayi), a snake that on average is only 9 to 13 inches (23 to 33 cm) in length in Virginia. I had never even heard of this snake, so I headed over to the Virginia Herpetological Societyfor some information. According to the society’s website, “Dekay’s Brownsnakes are terrestrial, secretive, and seldom found in the open. They are nocturnal, but are most often found under surface objects such as boards, trash of all sorts, logs, and rocks. Their microhabitat may be described as the soil-humus layer.” I am not sure why this one was in the open, but the fact that this species spends a lot of time in the dirt, where it feeds primarily on slugs and worms, explains why I have never seen one before.
I was intrigued to note that this species is viviparous, which means that it gives birth to living young rather than lay eggs as many snakes do. The gestational period is 105 to 113 days and the average litter size is about 11, according to the Virginia Herpetological Society website, which also noted that “mating has not been observed in Virginia.” After the young are born there is no parental care involved, but sometimes young brown snakes will stay close with the parent, according to information on the Animal Diversity Web website.
I have visited this park dozens of times at different times of the year and it is exciting for me to be able to continue to spot new species there. It is humbling to think about how little I know about the diverse population of living creatures in this one location.
I got a definite “Don’t mess with me” vibe when I encountered this Northern Black Racer snake (Coluber constrictor constrictor) last week at Occoquan Regional Park and moved on quickly after capturing these images. Most snakes slither away when they first detect my presence, but this one reared up a bit and started to feverish flick its forked tongue at me.
Black Racers are somewhat similar in appearance to the Eastern Rat Snake that I featured last week (See the posting Ready to shed?), but are a bit smaller in size and have shinier, smoother skins. Several of my Facebook friends noted that Black Racers also tend to be more aggressive and reported having been chased by one.
I never quite know what I will encounter when I am out wandering in the wild with my camera, like this rather large snake that I almost literally stumbled upon on Monday while exploring in Prince William County. I am fairly certain is an Eastern Rat Snake (Pantherophis alleghaniensis), the most commonly seen snake in the state of Virginia where I live, according to the Virginia Herpetological Society. On average, an Eastern Rat Snake in our state is 42 – 72 inches in length (107-183 cm) and I estimated that this one was at least four feet long (122 cm).
The snake was completely stretched out perpendicular to a stream and did not react as I initially approached, which shocked me a little. When I took my initial shots, in which I was not as close as it seems, I noticed that its eyes were somewhat cloudy, an indication that this snake may have been preparing to shed its skin. Knowing that snakes are vulnerable during this stage and more likely to be aggressive, I captured my shots quickly and backed away.
I decided to try something different to capture a view of the entire snake and created a panoramic image in Photoshop using three separate shots. The last image is the result of that little project and I encourage you to click on the image to get a look at the entire length of the snake. In case you are curious, the process is really easy and the software does most of the work aligning the images.
I was inspired to try the panorama by the work of Reed Andariese, an amazing photographer whose blog, Photo Art Flight, I follow. Over the years, Reed has done panoramic composite shots using a wide variety of cameras (including his iPhone) and lenses—check out his recent posting in which he featured multi-image composites taken with a fish-eye lens. Wow!
On Friday I was really happy to capture this image of a juvenile Common Five-lined Skink (Plestiodon fasciatus) at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge. How do I know that it is a juvenile? Only juveniles have the distinctive blue tail that I find to be exceptionally cool and that, in this case, adds a touch of color to an almost monochromatic image.
The old stump on which the skink was perched made a wonderful background for this shot and I love the way that the concentric age rings and the uneven texture of the wood mirror the colors and scales of the skink’s body. The shadowy center shape makes this feel like an aerial shot, as if a giant skink were standing on a ledge, staring down into a deep crevasse.
Most snakes tend to lie horizontally, but the Northern Watersnake (Nerodia sipedon) that I spotted last week felt inclined to slither its way up a protruding tree branch and bask in the sun at a rather sharp angle. I was exploring the edge of a stream in Prince William County and was somewhat shocked to stumble upon this snake—I had been keeping an eye on the vegetated areas, knowing there was a chance there might be a snake there, but did not really expect to see one out in the open.
Most of the Northern Watersnakes that I have seen in the past have been darker and duller in color than this one, which has a distinctive colorful pattern. Given the brightness of the colors and the snake’s relatively small size, I wonder if this might be a juvenile snake.
The snake seemed comfortable on its perch and did not react when I took these photos, though I must admit that I kept a respectful distance away. When I continued on, the snake stayed put, enjoying the warmth of the springtime sun.
Our recent warm weather has brought out all kinds of creatures, like this Common Five-lined Skink (Plestiodon fasciatus) that I spotted on Wednesday at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge. We do not have very many lizards in my area, so it is always a treat for me to spot one.
This skink blended in so well with the tree on which it was perched that I probably would not have spotted it if it had not moved. I love the way that the colors and texture of the skink’s body match the roughness of the tree’s bark, thereby creating a really harmonious color palette for the image.
The warm weather on Friday brought out a lot of turtles at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, including this group of Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta). I too enjoyed soaking up the sun, but felt more of a need to distance myself from other members of my species than these turtles did.
In terms of photography, I love the way that the red stripes on the turtles’ neck really stand out in an image made up of mainly muted colors. I thought of removing the leaf in the background, but decided that I liked the touch of whimsy that it added to the image.
When I spotted this Eastern Painted Turtle (Chrysemys picta picta) on Monday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I immediately thought how apt a visual metaphor it was for our lives this past year. Surrounded by its protective shell, the turtle tentatively looked out at a hostile world, wondering if it was safe to stick out its neck and move forward.
It is still not completely safe, but conditions appear to be improving somewhat in many parts of the world. Yesterday I had my second Pfizer-BioNTech vaccination shot and I hope that as many people as possible will choose to get vaccinated when they have the chance.
In the meantime, we owe it to each other to continue to wear our masks, to wash our hands, and to practice social distancing. None of us really like these restrictions, but they will protect us as we await the day when we can all come out of our shells.
Although the daytime temperatures keep dropping, turtles still come out to bask on sunny days. I spotted this beautiful turtle, which I believe is a Red-eared Slider (Trachemys scripta elegans), last Friday at the same suburban pond where I saw the Ring-necked Ducks and Canada Geese that I featured in previous postings. The subject and composition of this image are fairly ordinary, but the beautiful interplay of the light and shadows help to make the image stand out.
We do not have many lizards where I live, so it is always fun to spot one. The lizard that I see most often is the appropriately named Common Five-lined Skink (Plestiodon fasciatus). The adults are cool-looking, but they are no match in appearance for the juveniles that sport a brilliantly blue tail.
I spotted this handsome little skink last week while exploring Huntley Meadows Park. The skink was spread out wide on the trunk of a tree in an apparent attempt to warm up in the sunlight. I snapped off a few quick shots with my long telephoto zoom lens before I stealthily moved forward to improve my shooting position. However, as is usually the case, the skink was skittish and disappeared from sight as soon as it detected my presence.
Humans shed skin cells all of the time—according to one source, in one year, each of us sheds more than 8 pounds (3.6 kg) of dead skin. Snakes have an entirely different shedding process. Several times a year they grow a complete new layer of skin underneath the old layer. During shedding, snakes secrete a fluid to help separate the old skin from the new, and this fluid runs under their specialized eye caps, resulting in the opaque or blue quality of the eye.
Last Friday I encountered one of these blue-eyed snakes while exploring Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge. Snakes are vulnerable during this stage when their vision is impaired and I was a little surprised to see this snake was in a fairly open area. I think this may be an Eastern Ratsnake (Pantherophis alleghaniensis), but did not examine the snake at length for fear of disturbing it.
Moving as stealthily as I could, I leaned in with my macro lens to capture this image. If you look carefully into the eye (or double-click on the image to enlarge it) you will see that I managed to capture a “selfie” reflection.
As an interesting coincidence, my most viewed posting of 2020 has been a May 2016 posting that also featured a snake with a blue eye. That posting, entitled Blue-eyed garter snake, has had 597 views so far this year. If you are not totally creeped out by today’s photo, you might want to check out the 2016 posting, which has some full body shots as well as a close-up shot of the snake’s head.
When you are walking near the edge of the water, it is good to look down from time to time. Sharp-eyed Walter Sanford, a fellow dragonfly fanatic, spotted this Northern Water Snake (Nerodia sipedon) as we were searching for dragonflies in Fairfax County, Virginia last Monday. This is a non-poisonous snake, but I have read that it will bite and the wound may bleed a lot, because its saliva contains a mild anticoagulant.
Three years ago I had an encounter with a similar snake and watched it capture and devour a catfish. If you missed that posting, click on this link and check out “Snake captures catfish“—if you are like me, you will be fascinated and slightly horrified by the encounter and may avoid wading in the water at the edge of rivers for a time.
Most of the time Red-eared Slider turtles (Trachemys scripta elegans) slide into the water as soon as they detect my presence. Yesterday, however, this turtle seemed to be in such a deep meditative state that it remained in place when I approached it at Jackson Miles Abbott Wetland Refuge. The turtle was even impassive to repeated buzzings by several Eastern Amberwing dragonflies, some of which flew within inches of its face.
I was hoping to get some a shot of a dragonfly landing on the turtle’s shell, but was content to capture this image with both the turtle and a passing dragonfly.
I usually try to fill the frame as much as possible when I photograph wildlife, but it is equally cool sometimes to take a wider shot that shows the subject’s environment. That was the case with this photo of a Broad-headed Skink (Plestiodon laticeps) that I took last Friday at Occoquan Regional Park. As many of you know, during this time of the year I shoot most often with a macro lens that does not zoom. When I spotted this skink from a distance, I took this shot, suspecting that the skink would scamper away if I got any closer. As soon as I took one more step, the skink disappeared under the tree.
I love the contrast between the bright orange head of the skink and the vibrant green moss on the trunk of the fallen tree. This is probably a male skink, given that the head in males becomes bright orange, as in the photo, during the mating season (spring) but fades and reduces in size in other times of the year.
From a distance I did not notice the large snake coiled up in the grass near the bank of the river—I spotted it only when I was a footstep or two away from stepping on it. My first thought was that it was probably a non-poisonous Northern Watersnake (Nerodia sipedon). After my encounter with an Eastern Copperhead snake last year, though, I have been a little more anxious to get a good look at any snake that I see, especially its head, in order to assess my relative risk—the copperhead has a large angular head and its eyes have a vertical pupil.
So my eyes began to trace the coils of the snake, trying to find its head. This image gives you a pretty good idea of the view that I had as I bent over slightly to look at the snake. In the photo, it is easy to be distracted by the beautiful colors and pattern of its scales and by the sinuous curves of its body. I was a bit relieved when my eyes finally found the round pupils of the eye of this snake which, believe it or not, is visible in this image. Can you find it?
In case you are curious, I took this photo this past Tuesday when I was exploring in the wilds of Fairfax County, Virginia, hunting for dragonflies with my friend and fellow dragonfly enthusiast Walter Sanford. Although our primary target was dragonflies, my eyes were always scanning surrounding areas for other interesting creatures. (If you still have not found the snake’s eye in the image, here is a clue—look near the extreme left in the photo towards the middle.)
Last week I featured an actual mud turtle, but today’s muddy turtles are actually Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta) that appear to have been painted with a coating of mud. The last few months we have had a lot of unusually cool weather, and I think the turtles have been spending a lot of time in the mud at the bottom of the ponds. Last week the weather improve and there were turtles in all kinds of places at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge trying to absorb the warmth of the sun.
The pose of the first two turtles brings to mind a well-known scene from the movie Titanic in which Jack and Rose (Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet) were standing at the railing at the prow of the ship. I must confess that I spent 4+ hours watching the movie on television last Sunday night, which may be why the scene is so fresh in my mind. Yeah, I’m a bit of a romantic.
I encountered the second Painted Turtle as it was slowly making its way across a trail at the wildlife refuge. In addition to noting the large amount of fresh mud still on its shell, I was delighted by the way the two little leaf fragments on its shell matched the yellow markings on its neck.
No matter how many times that I see an Eastern Mud Turtle (Kinosternon subrubrum), I am always shocked by the disproportionately large size of its head. When I spotted this one on Tuesday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge, I remember wondering if it was physically possible for the turtle to withdraw its head into its shell. The turtle was standing in the middle of a wide trail, apparently in the process of crossing the trail. Although the mud turtle seemed to be fully aware of my presence, it appeared to be totally unfazed and merely gave me a sidewards glance as it waited for me to pass.
Given the circumstances in which we now live, I think we all could use some of the patience and imperturbability of this little creature.
When I posted a photograph last week of a skink with a bright blue tail, I noted that a skink can shed its tail if a predator grabs onto it. I never suspected that two days later I would encounter a skink with a missing tail. When I first spotted it, I was so drawn to the detailed scallop pattern on its body that I did not even notice its really short tail. (Click on the image to get a closer view of that wonderful texture.) The coloration suggests to me that this is a Broad-headed Skink (Plestiodon laticeps), not the more common Five-lined Skink that I featured last week.
I was also drawn to the orange coloration of the head. According to the Virginia Herpetological website, the head in male Broad-headed Skinks becomes bright orange and enlarged in the temporal region during the spring mating season. Perhaps the skink lost its tail during a fight with a rival—the website cited above notes that adult males are particularly aggressive to other males during the mating season.
In case you need a reminder about how long a skink’s tail should be, check out the posting from last week Young skink in May. Some of you may have read my bad joke about skinks in the comment section of that posting, but it seems so appropriate that I can’t help but repeat it here. “Do you know what skinks do when they lose their tails? They go to a retail store.” Sorry. 🙂
I really love the look of young Common Five-lined Skinks (Plestiodon fasciatus), when their tails are bright blue, like this one that I spotted last Thursday while exploring in Prince William County. The blue color gradually fades as the skinks mature and as a result it becomes a bit harder to spot the adults in the wild.
We do not have very many lizards where I live, so I am always happy to see one of these skinks. They are generally about 5 to 8.5 inches in length (13 to 21 cm), including their tails, and tend to be very skittish. I have read that a skink can shed its tail if a predator grabs onto it and then regenerate somewhat imperfectly the lost portion of the tail, but I have never knowingly seen a skink with a regrown tail.
Mike Powell 