The Intrepid Naturalists Explore the Desert at Night, Part 3

Here is the photo from yesterday's post that was giving you a hint about the next learning station at the Nighttime in the Desert program we attended last weekend.

If you guessed that it was a close up of snakeskin, you were absolutely right. Sorry, but you knew we'd have to talk about snakes, sooner or later!

Here is a little more of the skin of this Prairie Rattlesnake, with someone holding a book in the way

And these are the rattles

Here's the funny thing about the photos above. I asked permission (of course) to take photos while there were just a few people at the learning station and was so intent on getting the pictures, leaning in nice and close, that I totally forgot about the presenter. He was holding a fairly large (and very alive) specimen just inches above the spot where I had maneuvered my head and camera to take the shot of the rattlers on the dead snake.

Once I got over my close brush with desert snakedom, I realized how lucky we were to have Doug Burkett, author of Amphibians & Reptiles of White Sands Missile Range; Field Guide 2008, right there with us to share his knowledge.

Doug has been interested in snakes since he was in elementary school, and in his 18 years out on the White Sands Missile Range he has studied and collected specimens of its reptiles and amphibians. He is an absolutely marvelous speaker and goes to elementary and middle schools around southern New Mexico to teach about desert animals. The kids must be fascinated!

Doug shows us a rat snake

Here are some of the things about snake behavior that we learned.

• Snakes don't see you; they sense your heat and figure out how big you are.
• Based on your size, a snake determines whether you are something to eat, or something that wants to eat him.
• Snakes don't really want to mess with us--we are too big and inedible
• If you interrupt a snake when he is headed somewhere, his inclination will be to continue in that direction when he gets the chance. For instance, if you are standing west of a snake who is traveling from east to west, and if you should pick up the snake (the mind boggles!) and toss him back along his trail, he will come right back at you. This isn't because he is coming at you, it's just because he is still headed in his original direction. If you've ever tried to help a turtle across a road, you will recognize this behavior--don't try to turn him around, because he knows where he is going.
• If you should try to capture a snake by grabbing him behind the head, he will struggle. Wouldn't you? Doug demonstrated how you should place your hand along the snake's back and ease your other hand up toward the head. This is, of course, only done with snakes that are non-venomous. Naturally, in my case, this isn't done at all!

This last photo is of a Checkered Garter Snake. It was taken through the side of a mesh cage, which is why it looks a little fuzzy

The Intrepid Naturalists would like to share a bit more about desert reptiles and amphibians, but first--some photos of the desert sky at dusk tomorrow for Skywatch.

Not Another Sewing Slip-Up

Quite a few years back, my Siamese cat, Keeker, came in from our yard in Las Cruces with something sticking out from between her teeth. I thought immediately of the time, years before, when I had been doing some hand sewing and had set the needle and thread down to go and answer the phone. When I came back she was making her strange Siamese caterwauling sound and there was a bit of thread hanging out of her mouth. When I investigated a little closer there was something shiny in her teeth--my needle! I got it out somehow and learned my lesson about leaving needles around.

Back to the situation in Las Cruces. I thought at first--oh, no, not another sewing slipup!--but when I leaned down to check, she gave one more yowl and out popped a little snakelet. Somehow, in spite of the energy expended in jumping up and down and shouting various things, I managed to get the broom, sweep the snake out the door and into my garden. I have to admit, I never weeded that section much after that, figuring that the little guy had lots more family somewhere out there.

Here she is, survivor of snake adventures and sewing catastrophes: Keekerekka Z., 1985-2004. She is modeling a raccoon collar in this photo, don't ask me why.