Rosslyn Redux

Tag: Meadows

  • Timber Rattlesnake? Massasauga Rattlesnake?

    Massasauga rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus)
    Massasauga rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    Have you ever ever heard of an Eastern massasauga rattlesnake? Or a Sistrurus catenatus?

    Me either.

    Until recently.

    I’ve just come across notes that I scribbled almost three years ago on May 15, 2009 after seeing a large, unfamiliar snake behind the carriage barn. I tried to identify the exotic serpent but never solved the mystery.

    My sleuthing was reinvigorated this afternoon, leading me to a new possibility. As unlikely as it may seem, I now suspect that I may have spotted a massasauga rattlesnake with markings totally unlike our local Adirondack timber rattlesnakes.

    But I’m getting ahead of myself. First let’s take a look at my old notes:

    After gardening, while watering transplanted tomatoes I saw a large snake with unfamiliar coloring/markings. I described it to naturalist John Davis (@trekeast), conservationist Chris Maron and Essex Farm guru, Mark Kimball. No consensus. Perhaps a copper head, a northern water snake or an adder. I poked around the web looking at photos and reading descriptions. It was not a Northern Water Snake. The Northern Copperhead photo could be a match, and the description fits quite accurately. And this photo of a copperhead looks similar. Actually, most photos I find online of Northern Copperheads look similar:

    Some other possibilities include Eastern Fox Snake, Northern Water Snake and Corn Snake. In fact, it looked an awful lot like a, Anerythristic Corn Snake (Elaphe guttata), but we’re definitely not in their natural range. Here’s a photo of a baby corn snake that is much smaller than the stealthy serpent I spied, though otherwise very similar. And here’s another corn snake. This photo of an Anerythristic Corn Snake is a dead ringer for the rhubarb runaway.

    That was my thinking three years ago. But I’ve changed my mind. If only I had a photograph…

    At the time I called my bride on my mobile phone and asked her to bring my camera so I could take a picture. “Come quick. I don’t want the snake to get away!”

    Massasauga rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus)
    Massasauga rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    “Don’t get near it. It’s probably a rattlesnake.Come inside. Now.”

    A brief, anxious verbal volley later the snake had vanished into the deep grass around the rhubarb patch. No photograph. Though the image of the snake — pale yellowish tan background with brown and black foreground markings — lingered in my mind, the length of the snake grew longer with each passing minute.

    The timber rattlesnakes that live in the Adirondacks are dark, almost black with only a faint pattern visible in certain lighting situations. This snake was not a timber rattlesnake. And I never saw a rattle. Nor did I hear a rattle.

    And yet when I stumbled upon the photographs of the yellow rattlesnake above, I instantly recognized the snake that vanished in the rhubarb patch. We had a Sistrurus catenatus, yellow massasauga rattler in Rosslyn’s rhubarb patch!

    Or did we?

    What if the assumption that all Adirondack timber rattlesnakes living in the Split Rock Mountain Forest area are brown-black is erroneous? What if some of our local rattlers look like the yellowish tan snakes in this video which was ostensibly filmed in New York Sate?

    The photographer/videographer who shared that dramatic footage was prudent not to disclose the location of the snakes, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were right here in the Champlain Valley. Those pale snakes, especially the rattlesnake with the pale yellow head are extremely similar to my rhubarb patch mystery serpent!

    If you’re a wise herpetologist with a knowledge of the Adirondacks’ Champlain Valley maybe you can help solve my snake mystery…

    Updates

    June 27, 2012: Perhaps Bill Brown (and many others) are relying upon empirical evidence about the Split Rock rattlesnakes that is changing?

    Bill Brown, an expert on timber rattlers… said the Split Rock population is unusual in that all the specimens are black. Except for a tiny population in New Hampshire, other populations in the North are made up of black snakes and yellow snakes (with crossbands)… A biologist who has studied timber rattlers for more than three decades, Brown attributes the uniformity of the Split Rock population to the “founder effect.” It is supposed that all the founders of the population were black, and no yellow snakes contributed to the gene pool. (Adirondack Explorer)

    July 17, 2012: Seems that we need help identifying another mystery snake in the Adirondacks.

    https://twitter.com/Davecfm/status/223131416618209280

    Dave Cummings' mystery snake(s)
    Dave Cummings’ mystery snake(s)

    Or, if my eyes serve me, two Adirondack mystery snakes.

    Thanks, Dave Cummings (@Davecfm), for adding more serpentine curiosity to the mix!

    If you’re interested in building a timber frame home, you need to check this guy out. Cummings shares photographic documentation of his quest to build an off-the-grid, timber frame and straw bale house just south of us, near Bolton Landing.

    I missed Cummings’ first Twitter post about the snake(s), but this Northern Water Snake follow-up tweet by Jake (@darkeyes924) got my attention. Better late than never!

    https://twitter.com/TrekEast/status/224966236382044161

     

    Timber Rattlesnake seen by John Davis
    Timber Rattlesnake seen by John Davis

    https://twitter.com/TrekEast/status/224973177439260673

    https://twitter.com/TrekEast/status/224978430666612736

    https://twitter.com/TrekEast/status/225174561753284609

    October 9, 2014: 

    Recently I was contacted by a herpetologist here in NY studying the Massasauga who was interested in my observation. In our discussion he mentioned this:

    It is common for Milksnakes to be identified as Massasaugas. The belief is that Milk snakes have evolved to mimic venomous species in their area, and in eastern states are known to be EMR mimics. Is it possible what you saw was a Milk Snake? ~Alexander Robillard of SUNY College of Environmental Science and Forestry

    So, it’s quite likely that I saw an enormous, beautiful milk snake. I’ve seen no similar snakes recently or ever. And given the fact that our local population of rattlesnakes (Split Rock Wilderness) are apparently all blackish, this suggestion seems the most likely.

  • Snakes, Swiss Chard & Automobiles

    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer
    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer

    A week ago today was a day for snakes. Though – sadly, I must add – it was not a day for living snakes…

    Rattlesnakes and White Tail Deer

    Let’s start with the good news. Or at least the benign-if-slightly-amusing news. To set the stage, imagine yourself walking across the still dewy lawn south of the carriage barn. A light morning mist still hangs in the air adding a slightly bluish, fuzzy aspect to the vegetable garden, orchard, and meadows beyond.

    [pullquote]Your eyes would suddenly, inevitably notice a coiled rattlesnake in the middle of the Swiss chard![/pullquote]Approaching the southeast corner of the vegetable garden your eyes would be drawn to the delicious, spicy radicchio growing in the cedar raised bed at the corner. Next your eyes would dart to the bright orange nasturtium sprawling alongside. Perhaps you would bend over and pick a succulent, young leaf to munch on. The flavor drifts somewhere between the subtlest peppercorn and cinnamon stick.

    As you wander along past two varieties of beets interspersed with a fresh crop of French Breakfast Radishes your eyes would suddenly, inevitably notice a coiled rattlesnake in the middle of the Swiss chard!

    But don’t panic. It’s not real. More precisely, it’s not a live rattlesnake. It is a lifelike rubber decoy. Before I explain to you why this rubber rattlesnake is coiled, rattle raised and head drawn up and back with fangs bared, here’s a quick backstory.

    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer
    Rattlesnake decoy among the Swiss Chard to deter the White Tail Deer

    Duck Doodoo

    Back in May Lake Champlain water levels were low and dropping. But June brought rain, rain, rain. The lake level went up, up, up.

    [pullquote]Doug called to say that two ducks were cuddled up asleep with the rubber rattlesnake…[/pullquote]The shoreline shrank, so the mallards decided that our dock was the perfect place for snoozing, eating, and… evacuating the rather rich byproduct of their rather rich diet. This stinky mess created an undesirable obstacle course for accessing the boat. So we hosed and scrubbed. But within a few hours the situation repeated itself.

    After many weeks of duck waste remediation (DWR) I suffered a small stroke of genius. We needed a decoy predator! I researched and discovered that others had found that a coiled rubber rattlesnake deterred ducks, geese, seagulls, even pelicans. Perfect.

    I placed the order and chuckled my way down to the dock on deployment day. An hour or two later Doug called to say that two ducks were cuddled up asleep with the rubber rattlesnake…

    White Tail Deer Decoy

    What to do with a worthless rubber rattlesnake? A few silly pranks came to mind, but before I could regroup and execute, I discovered that Doug had transferred the rubber rattlesnake to one of the Swiss chard patches in our vegetable garden that the white tail deer have been devouring. Good idea!

    It’s too early to determine for certain whether or not the rattler is going to dissuade the deer, but I’ll update you if there’s any news.

    Corn Snake Roadkill

    In sorrier stories, this unfortunate sight caused me to pause during a recent bike ride.

    Is this unfortunate snake spotted on Willsboro point at the end of July 2015 an anerythristic corn snake?
    Is this unfortunate snake spotted on Willsboro point at the end of July 2015 an anerythristic corn snake?

    I pedaled past this exotic roadkill on a Willsboro Point bike ride, and circled back to try and identify the unfortunate fellow. Aside from the always disturbing sight of roadkill, this snake instantly reminded me of the mystery snake I spied in the rhubarb a few years ago. In fact, I’m almost 100% certain now that is the same species I failed to identify then.

    A quick search online suggests to me that it might be an anerythristic corn snake. Check out the photograph below and decide for yourself.

    An anerythristic corn snake (Source: Wikipedia)
    An anerythristic corn snake (Source: Wikipedia)

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  • Orchard Rumination

    Apple Blossom
    Apple Blossom (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    Lately I’ve been reflecting on all the trees I wish I’d planted in the fall of 2006 and the spring of 2007. We’ve been adding new trees for a year now — a half dozen or so each spring and fall — and yet I can’t help but imagine what might be today if I’d started earlier. Fruit trees ten or twelve feet tall would still be blooming. We would have been harvesting apples and pears and plums and apricots and peaches for a couple of seasons by now.

    In fact, we have harvested some apples and pears during the last two years, but they didn’t come from newly planted trees. I’ve been restoring a couple dozen gnarly, long neglected apple trees (and two pear trees) scattered throughout the meadows behind our barns. Whittling a third of their old growth away each season, I’ve begun to nurse the old trees back to health, and several have begun to produce palatable fruit.

    I’ve wiled away many beautiful hours lopping and sawing from the top of a ladder or winding my way through the limbs like a monkey. I’ve loved every minute of it and not just for the promise of future fruit.

    It’s a funny thing, an orchard. So many functions wrapped up in one little plot of land, one little grid of fruit trees. Obviously one of the most important is also the most self evident: an orchard is a neighborhood “market”, if you will. A fresh fruit grocery less than a minute from the kitchen. An organic grocery where I can be 100% confident that no pesticide and no unwholesome ripening techniques have sullied the fresh fruit.

    Apple Orchard Ladder
    Doug carrying orchard ladder

    And then there are the flowers. Gardeners, landscapers, poets and painters have romanced the seasonal blossoms of fruit trees for hundreds of years. I am no exception despite my utilitarian, upcountry ways. An orchard is a geometric bouquet of blooms, an annual riot against leafless canopies and gray, drizzly spring days. And even when blossoms flutter earthward and the boughs fill with thick plumes of adolescent foliage, there remains a subtle nobility in the orchard’s orderly procession.

    During hot summer days the orchard becomes contemplative, concentrating on nurturing promises into bounty. The fruit trees reach deep into the cool earth for water and high into the sky for sunshine. They brace their increasingly heavy load against winds and thunderstorms.

    And then it’s time for the harvest. Whether a crisp apple plucked during a mid-day walk with Griffin or a pear sauce cooked down with vanilla, cloves and a jigger of maple syrup, I’ve already begun to enjoy the fruits of my labors. This August through October should offer up an even more robust crop of apples and pears. And someday soon I hope to acquire a cider press and invite friends and neighbors for a weekend of fruit gathering and cidering. A potluck. Music in the meadows. And by then, with luck, the apricots and peaches and plums will have begun to produce as well. What fruity feasting we’ll do!

    Old Apple Tree; New Chapter
    Old Apple Tree; New Chapter (Photo credit: virtualDavis)

    During the winter months another often overlooked function of the orchard reveals itself. In order to maintain healthy fruit trees while improving their physical architecture and productivity it’s necessary to prune the trees during the period of winter dormancy. This is a chore, and the bigger the orchard grows, the bigger the chore. But unlike most chores, pruning an orchard is far more than a line item on a To Do list.

    There’s a creative element, shaping and guiding the trees’ growth habit year after year. And there is a serotonin inducing pick-me-up triggered by dedicating yourself to an activity during the winter doldrums which will increase summer abundance. An investment in future harvests.

    But for me, the single greatest reward of fruit tree orcharding occurs during the off-season. My bride is an avid and dedicated practitioner of yoga. Not I. For me it’s fruit tree pruning. I don’t think it’s a reach to suggest that pruning fruit trees in the late winter and early spring is my yoga. It’s my mindfulness meditation.

    And then there’s grafting… But that alchemist’s hobby for another day, another post.

    Now I’m off to sleep to dream of the orchards we might have had today if we could have initiated our orchard yoga sooner!

  • Spring Dance: Coyotes and White Tail Deer

    Spring Dance: deer crossing trail camera during spring 2017 (Source: Geo Davis)
    Spring Dance: deer crossing trail camera during spring 2017 (Source: Geo Davis)

    One trail cam. One location. Three months, give or take. Deer. Coyotes. And the transition from winter to spring in the Adirondacks’ Champlain Valley.

    Spring Dance 2017: coyote crossing trail camera during spring 2017 (Source: Geo Davis)
    Spring Dance: coyote crossing trail camera during spring 2017 (Source: Geo Davis)

    The perspective, situated near a fence opening at the transition of scrub forest and meadows offers a glimpse of the dance between ungulates (white tailed deer) and native canids (Eastern coyote). From awkward youngsters to healthy adults to slightly mangy elders, this short series of photographs taken with a relatively unsophisticated trail cam illuminates the springtime interplay of two increasingly ubiquitous species in our local ecosystem.

    I hope you find it as interesting as I did!

    [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4beO0XdaoY&rel=0&w=550&showinfo=0 ]

    Oh, yes, there are a couple of human spottings in the video (slide show) above. Who are they? Unfamiliar to me. And unclear what they were were doing wandering this fence line…

    Nota Bene: If the video / slide show above was too benign for you, here’s a fascinating (and somewhat disturbing) video of a small coyote (or two?) attacking and eventually eating a mature buck.

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  • Bobcat Sighting

    Bobcat Sighting

    Bobcat Sighting on January 2, 2016 in Essex, NY.
    Bobcat Sighting on January 2, 2016 in Essex, NY.

    This handsome bobcat (Lynx rufus) was photographed with game camera in one of our meadows on January 2, 2016. Friend and Essex neighbor John Davis mounted the camera about a month ago. In addition to photographs of deer, turkeys, and rabbits he discovered four images (from two separate occasions) of this healthy bobcat. In fact, he thinks it might possibly have been two separate bobcats.

    “What joy to have such lovely creatures on our lands!” ~ John Davis

    It truly is absolutely wonderful. I can’t believe that this sly feline has been slinking around in our back woods/meadows, and yet I’ve never one spied him/her. Not even a footprint. Here’s the sequence of three consecutive photographs as the bobcat walked past the trail camera.

    I look forward to other surprises over the course of the winter. Thanks, John, for another Rosslyn safari installment!

    Bobcat Behavior

    Wondering about the elusive, rarely witnessed but apparently [increasingly] common bobcat? I did. I do. How does Lynx rufus traverse our wild (and not-so-wild) places without being more frequently documented?

    The bobcat is crepuscular. It keeps on the move from three hours before sunset until about midnight, and then again from before dawn until three hours after sunrise. Each night it will move from 2 to 7 mi (3.2 to 11.3 km) along its habitual route. This behavior may vary seasonally, as bobcats become more diurnal during fall and winter in response to the activity of their prey, which are more active during the day in colder months. (Source: Wikipedia)

    [Update: I revisited this post on the Essex on Lake Champlain community blog with a few ruminations and evolutions.]

    Crepuscular is a cool (but decidedly un-onomatopoetic) word for the gloaming. Twilight. Cocktail hour… And this, neighbors, might have something to do with the bobcat’s invisibility. Although cocktail hour also seems to be the most oft reported Champy sightings, so maybe my logic is off! Maybe the peripatetic… behavior of Lynx rufus is a more likely explanation for infrequent sightings. Always on the move. Sly. Stealthy. (Source: Lynx rufus (Bobcat) Sighting in Essex)

    Hoping to learn more about the habits of our local bobcats, and possibly (fingers, arms, and eyes crossed) we’ll even get lucky and report another bobcat sighting…

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  • Rifle & Eggs

    Rifle & Eggs

    Rifle-ready aerating at Rosslyn
    Rifle-ready aerating at Rosslyn (Image by virtualDavis, Fall, ’11)

    “Mornin’,” Wes said as he pulled the pantry door shut behind him and greeted Griffin with a scratch behind the ears.

    “Good morning,” I called back from the kitchen where I was scrambling eggs.

    “You don’t want me to run that thing on the tennis court, do ya?” he asked, referring to the lawn aerator we had rented in Plattsburgh the day before.

    Wesley Hackett had been working for us since the spring of 2005. He’d been a member of the contracting team that renovated the Lapine House, and then we rolled him over to work on Rosslyn. When our historic rehabilitation was complete (Is it ever complete? Rehab ad infinitum…) he stayed on as caretaker, quickly a becoming a jack of all trades who we relied upon heavily.

    I’d wanted to revitalize our lawns, especially the front lawn where contractors had parked and pallets of material have been offloaded and stored throughout our endless renovation project. I was especially concerned about the compacted soil beneath the old ginkgo tree, the maple trees and the basswood.

    But projects lead on to other projects, and it was the autumn of 2011 before we finally managed to rent an aerator to fill our lawns with small holes. The first step toward healthier grass and healthier trees.

    “Good question, Wes. I didn’t think about that.”

    The clay tennis court probably dated back to Sherwood Inn days. It was located northwest of the ice house and had long since been converted into a perfectly level lawn suitable for crocket and volleyball when the weather was nice and a grassy pond when rainy days stacked up.

    “I was just thinking about the clay, you know?”

    “You’re probably right. You don’t want to get bogged down in clay. Let’s skip the tennis court and focus on whatever else remains around the carriage barn and back around the gardens.”

    “That’s what I figured. Just thought I’d check.”

    “Thanks for asking.”

    “Oh, and by the way… Do you think you could advance me $300? I mean, you’ll probably be paying me tomorrow anyway, so I could pay you back.”

    The Day the Gingko Leaves Fell - 2
    The day the gingko leaves fell (Image by virtualDavis)

    I’d finished cooking and plating my eggs and was headed into the morning room to eat.

    “It’s just the simple fact that Elvin wants to sell me his rifle ’cause he needs the money quick. It’s worth $1,500 easy, but, like I say, he needs the money, so…”

    “Planning to get back into the woods?”

    “A little bit. You know, some.” When Wes first started working for us he hunted for deer each fall, but several times over the last couple of years he’d mentioned that he really didn’t do it anymore.

    “I’ll talk with Susan, but seems to me that it might just make sense to pay you early since we won’t be here Friday.”

    “That’d be perfect. Maybe before lunch? I told Elvin I’d come by during lunch if I could do it.”

    “Okay. See you at noon.”