This morning we spotted another nonvenomous Eastern Milksnake (Lampropeltis triangulum triangulum). While gathering limestone for the small stone walls that will delineate sloped flowerbeds behind Rosslyn’s icehouse, Tony discovered this youngster under a pile of rocks. Startled but gentle, this colorfully mottled snake seemed as perplexed by the two of us — and the tractor idling next to us — as we were intrigued with him/her.
Tony with Eastern Milksnake (Photo: Geo Davis)
After a quick look, Tony tucked the snake into a cozy pile of wood chips to ensure its safety while we were operating the tractor nearby.
Judging by color and markings, the Y-pattern on its head, as well as the head and tail shapes, I’m pretty confident that this… [is an Eastern Milksnake.] (Source: Milksnake?)
Tony with Eastern Milksnake (Photo: Geo Davis)
Almost fifteen years after that first rhubarb patch encounter with an unfamiliar snake, it’s exciting to be encountering and recognizing Eastern Milksnakes thriving on Rosslyn’s grounds. And it’s further evidence that our rewilding efforts in Rosslyn’s evolving wildlife sanctuary are enlivening a small stretch of the Adirondack Coast with wild neighbors.
Although my original post explored the possibility of Eastern massasauga rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus) an update to the post concluded that a considerably more likely possibility was that I’d seen a milksnake, aka milk snake (Lampropeltis triangulum), a species of kingsnake.
While I feign no herpetology pretenses, my October 9, 2014 re-identification hinged upon communication from a more learned authority.
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
Possible indeed! Even likely. I’ve concluded that, then as now, Rosslyn’s resplendent snake was a milksnake. What do you think?
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!”
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.
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.
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
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?
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.
We walked down the road from the tennis court and stopped off at my parents’ house, still closed up for the winter. It would be several weeks before my parents arrived in Rock Harbor for the summer, and by then the asparagus would have gone to seed, so we picked enough for dinner and enough extra to bring back to the city for another meal.
I also picked a fistful of rhubarb to sauté with maple syrup for dessert. Susan disliked rhubarb, but I loved the lip puckering tartness. The taste transports me instantly to The Farm.
My parents, living and working in New York City, had purchased an 1840s farmhouse on 85 acres near Greenwich, New York five months after getting married. I was born less than two years later.
Although The Farm served primarily as a weekend getaway for the next five years, it dominates the geography of my earliest childhood. A stream of nostalgia gilded memories flow from this pastoral source: exploring the time-worn barns, absent livestock except for those conjured up by my energetic imagination and the swallows which darted in and out, building nests in the rafters, gliding like darts through dusty sunbeams; vegetable gardening with my mother; tending apple, pear and quince trees with my father; eating fresh rhubarb, strawberries and blackberries; discovering deer and raccoons and snakes and even a snapping turtle.
Rosslyn boathouse, January 8, 2012 (Photo credit: Glenn Estus)
It’s time for another Rosslyn Roundup to share everything Rosslyn-related that I didn’t get a chance to post over the last few weeks. Champlain Valleysprings are unpredictable and exciting, sometimes arriving early (this year) and other times hiding behind rain, rain, rain (last year).
We’ve been celebrating our good fortune (quietly, with fingers crossed, while chewing on garlic cloves) that Spring 2012 has been considerably drier than Spring 2011. Remember the devastating Lake Champlain floods last year? For the better part of two months we experienced history making high water levels which inundated the Town of Essex and swamped Rosslyn boathouse under three feet of water for weeks on end. But we were lucky. Damage was minimal, and we recovered. Actually… we’re still recovering. Rebuilding the stone walls along the waterfront is ongoing, but that story for another blog post!
It’s a bit hard to believe that I launched the Rosslyn Redux blog just over a year ago. I’ve been finding my feet, trying to decide what goes into the book, what goes into the performance and what goes into the blog. I’m still filtering through artifacts and unadopted stories, but the most everything has fallen into place. The book (books? booklings?) are nearing their inevitable (and looong awaited) right of passage. And the blog, evolving in fits and starts has nevertheless averaged almost one post per week. Expect that rate to increase now that I’m in the homestretch with manuscripts.
Okay, enough bellybutton gazing. Well, almost enough. A couple of other interesting items to relay before plunging into the Rosslyn Roundup.
May Day was the busiest day on the blog ever! In addition to “Reawakening Rosslyn” which drew record readers, there were many people who showed up a day late to read “Old Glory & Mud Season“. The combination of these two posts included a magic elixir… If only I knew what it was! Please don’t hesitate to share your preferences for future posts, and I’ll do my best to honor your wishes.
I have to admit that I was pretty thrilled with the reception that “Reawakening Rosslyn” received. You may have already figured that it’s a central theme in the story of our epic home and property rehabilitation.
Less surprising, my post about cartoonist Sid Couchey was also well received. Proof that whether we all admit it or not, we all love cartoons! And if you ever met my Essex friend and neighbor, you’d love Couchey too. He will remain a local legend for many years to come. I feel fortunate each time I pass Couchey’s painting of Rosslyn boathouse which hangs in our morning room. I’ve decided that the fellow chatting with Champy — the Lake Champlain monster — at the end of the boathouse pier is the cartoonist himself. I’m listening carefully and hoping to hear the joke that they’re sharing.
Okay, about that roundup… Did you see that spooky photograph of Rosslyn boathouse at the top of this post? Spectacular. Eerie. The image is called “Essex, NY Boathouse #3” and it was shot on January 8, 2012 by local photographer, Glenn Estus. We have several of his photographs hanging on the walls at Rosslyn, and you can see plenty more in his Flickr feed if your interested.
Speaking of photographs, check out the new Rosslyn Redux board on Pinterest to see a growing collection of Rosslyn photographs shared by people all over the globe. Add your own photos, and I’ll heap praise and accolades upon you.
And you’ll find more photographs by me and others on the Rosslyn Redux Facebook page which has grown steadily in membership over the last year. If you’re not already a friend of the forthcoming Rosslyn Redux memoir, now’s the time. Please friend the page and feel free to share your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you.
Garter snake gliding out of the Snow in Summer ground cover at Rosslyn in Essex.
That was one jumbo garter snake, friends! Even longer than the timber rattlesnake I witnessed a couple of weeks ago in a friends barn, though falling short in girth, rattles, and venom.
Though this Common Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis) was docile and quickly retreated into a crevice in the stone wall, it’s a common misconception that these familiar garden-variety snakes are not venomous. They are.
According to Dr. Bryan Fry, a biologist from the University of Melbourne, garter snakes needn’t be feared, but the do use venom to subdue their prey.
“Most of the snakes that we think of as nonvenomous are actually venomous,” he explained. Garter snakes and many other supposedly nonvenomous snakes actually produce tiny amounts of venom. Dr. Fry is quick to point out that this does not mean that garter snakes are dangerous. “All they need to do is stun a frog or slow it down a bit, and it’s enough to help them,” he said. (The New York Times)
I recall being bitten by a testy garter snake multiple times as a young boy. Then, as now, I was intrigued with snakes. I was less than five years old, playing in the yard at “The Farm”. I no longer recall where or how I captured the small snake, but I knew enough to discern between dangerous snakes and the almost harmless garter snake.
Each time I would pick up the increasingly angry snake, it would bite my hand. I would drop it into the grass and then stoop to pick it up again. Another bite. Drop. Pick up.
I was a slow learner.
Despite a collection of small nips, there was no lasting damage. Apparently no venom made its way into my young hand.
Although garter snakes are not considered venomous, they have a gland above the upper jaw on either side (corresponding to the venom gland of vipers and other venomous snakes) that produces potentially toxic secretions. In general, bites from garter snakes are harmless because these snakes lack fangs and thus cannot efficiently inject the gland’s secretions. However, prolonged bites by western terrestrial and common garter snakes have caused swelling and localized bleeding in people, presumably because unusually large amounts of the secretions seeped into the victims. (Online Nevada Encyclopedia)
I rarely pick up garter snakes these days. I’m not sure exactly why, but I don’t. Maybe I’m more sensitive to their plight, aware that being pulled out of your habitat by a clumsy giant just so he can get a closer look isn’t exactly what I’d wish for were in the serpent’s handsome black and yellow striped skin. Or scales…
Nevertheless I enjoy finding them, especially when they’re as big and healthy as this one. I discovered him sunning in the Snow in Summer, a soft cushiony groundcover that must have felt pretty pleasant with the morning sun. Until a gawking giant and his nosy Labrador Retriever came along.
Garter snake sunning in the Snow in Summer ground cover at Rosslyn in Essex, NY.
Garter snake gliding out of the Snow in Summer ground cover at Rosslyn in Essex, NY.
Garter snake vanishing between the Snow in Summer ground cover and a massive stone wall at Rosslyn in Essex, NY.
