The Delta map turtle is one of the "sawbacked" types.
At the time I decided I wished to photograph the Delta map turtle in the wild, it was considered a named subspecies, Graptemys nigrinoda delticola, the darker and easternmore of the 2 forms of the. black-knobbed map turtle. Even back then, the subspecific differences, hence validity, had been questioned. And with the 2 races interbreeding widely and seeminly at every given opportunity, the differentiating features between the western and the eastern races were fast melding. It was becoming ever more difficult to separate them by appearance alone. But it still seemed that the map turtles at the eastern most periphery of the species range north of Mobile Bay were darker overall, often had linear postorbital markings, and had larger dark plastral figures than examples from further west. So, when, a couple of springs ago, I still wanted to see this turtle, Curtis suggested a “can’t miss” locale and Kenny and I, in the region for other reasons, headed northward from Mobile Bay.

Within 10 miles the sky darkened, the sun was obscured, immense cumulus clouds gathered and we drove into storms so intense that traffic was almost at a standstill. Still we crawled northward, eventually left the rain (but not the clouds) behind. An hour and a half later, in late afternoon, when we arrived at the map turtle destination it was still so dark that the cameras had problems focusing on the few Delta maps that were still hoping for sunlight on exposed snags. Although we decided to remain overnight and try our luck the next morning, cloudy conditions continued to prevail. The few pix we managed to take were suitable for vouchers but marginal (as you can see here) for more definitive purposes. Next time though—next time!

The entire head of some red-cheeked mud turtles is suffused with red.
Whether you consider the red-cheek a full species (Kinosternon cruentatum) or a subspecies of the scorpion mud turtle (K. scorpioides cruentatum), there can be little argument that some examples are one of, if not the, prettiest of the genus.

Long (and with good reason) a hobbyist favorite, the amount of red on the face of this 4 to 6 inch long aquatic turtle, can vary from little more than a facial smudge (and even this may dull with advancing age) to a long-lasting brilliant suffusion encompassing the entire head.

This small and easily kept turtle is native to the Yucatan Peninsula region (southeastern Mexico and Belize). Wild collected adult examples are still occasionally available and a fair number of hatchlings are produced in captivity.

Although these (and other kinosternids) can be kept in aquaria with shallow clean water, and although they seldom bask even when it is easy for them to do so, I do offer a shelf (or smooth flat rock, where they can rest an inch or two below the water’s surface. The turtles usually thrive on a diet of high quality pelleted food but will appreciate a periodic offering of a nightcrawler or a freshly killed minnow. Hardy and easily kept, be prepared to have your red-cheeks for decades.

Although not common, red phase brown anoles are well documented in Florida populations.
This pretty little female brown anole visited our back deck yesterday. She caught the eye of an amorous male brown anole of normal color. As far as aberrancies go, orange headed female and all orange male brown anoles are not particularly rare. And each time I see one I am reminded of the first one I ever saw. An adult male, it was in a terrarium at a reptile dealership and had just been sold to a well-known herpetoculturist for the whopping sum of several hundred dollars. Since then I have seen a dozen or so males and about 3 times that many orange-headed females in the wild. But I was recently told that a vendor at an east coast herp expo had a number of orange phase brown anoles that he was offering at exorbitant prices.

Build it and they will come. Offer it and they will buy. And then there was P.T.Barnum’s supposed statement, but I won’t go there!

A common liana snake en situ, Peruvian Amazon.
We had looked for years with no success for a common liana snake, Siphlophis cervinus, on the Amazonian (Peru) preserves that Patti and I regularly visited. We looked high and low, in trailside trees, in shrubs, and of course on lianas but to no avail. After all, this was known to be an arboreal, nocturnal, species so we scoured and rescoured leafed branches, bare branches. bromeliad cups, you name it. If it saw above ground level and reachable by us, we looked. So where did we find our first liana snake? It was crawling busily along atop fallen wet leaves in mid-trail a fair distance from any arboreal highways on Madre Selva Biological Preserve. About 20” long the slender snake was even prettier than it pix had led us to believe. Its busy pattern, a mosaic of yellow shades on black, orange highlights on black, and black reticulations on and orange vertebral line, was nothing short of spectacular.

But this first found terrestrial example has proven to be the exception. Although we still don’t consider this species common, since the first find we have averaged one Liana snake per trip. On one trip we were lucky enough to find 2.

But when compared to the dozens of calico snakes and rainbow boas we have happened across, the common liana snake has still proven far from a common find.

A black female Kaznakov's viper.
One female is orange with black markings, one is almost all black, and the male is mostly orange. I can let you have them for, awwww—I’ve forgotten how much—but the amount was almost affordable so I became the owner of a viper taxon that I had long wanted to work with. These were Kaznakov’s vipers, Vipera kaznakovi.

This is a small (15 to 24 inch long), rather heavy bodied viper (females tend to be stouter than males and gravid females become noticeably heavy) of forested slopes of the Caucasus region, specifically of Georgia, Turkey, and a small area of Russia.

My 3 were housed in a naturalistic terrarium having a substrate of scree, 3 snake-sized caves, and a few live plantings. Of course a small dish of clean water was always present.

The little snakes quickly settled in and within days were accepting large prefrozen fuzzies from forceps. As spring turned to summer and summer to autumn, the vipers began breeding. They were cooled for about 60 days, and when warmed they again resumed breeding. Even during breeding the appetites of all 3 were always good. By late spring the female was noticeably gravid and by midsummer she presented us with 5 beautiful babies.

Sadly many of my records and notes became irretrievable when a recalcitrant computer chose to die so many particulars are now merely memories. But at least I can share a few pix with you. Enjoy.

A portrait of the Trans-Danubian Sand Viper
Like the herpetofauna of the USA, the nomenclature of the Old World herpetofauna is in great disarray. However, it seems that at the moment, at least, the beautiful Trans-Danubian sand viper (all of the several subspecies are often referred to as “nose-horned vipers” by American herpetoculturists) continues to be known as Vipera ammodytes montandoni. The Trans-Danubian sand viper is adult at from 24 to 34 inches in total length and is restricted in distribution to Bulgaria and southern Romania. Often differentiated by the shape of the rostral projection which is deeper than broad this sturdy viper is sexually dichromatic. Females are usually of some shade of fawn with a deep brown dorsal pattern while the ground color of the males is from a rather light gray to a dark olive gray and the dorsal markings are black(ish). And the keyt word here is “usually,” for some individuals in populations may be quite brightly colored.

This snake can vary as greatly in disposition as in coloration with some being placid and reluctant to strike while others will strike with very little provocation. The venom is complex and the toxicity has been found to vary populationally. This snake should be considered dangerous and if handling is necessary this should be accomplished with extreme care and a clear plastic restraining tube.

This is a normally colored and patterned dusky pygmy rattler.
Dusky pygmy rattlers, Sistrurus miliarius barbouri, are among the most abundant snakes, including both nonvenomous and venomous—in Florida. I can remember finding these in such numbers beneath the Australian pines that lined the old Tamiami Canal west of Dade County that it was far easier to ignore them than to count them. They were nearly as plentiful in Broward, Lee, Collier, Charlotte, and Brevard counties. And they remain one of the snakes that we can be almost assured of seeing when weather conditions are reasonable in Union, Baker, and Liberty counties. Simply stated, although they can be absent from some locales dusky pygmy rattlesnakes are almost everywhere in Florida.

In keeping with the common name dusky pygs are usually just that, dusky in color and “dusty” in appearance. The dusty appearance is created by a varying overlay of melanin that may obscure the precise outlines of the dark dorsal and lateral spots. This nervous (even twitchy) little rattlesnake usually has a prominent but broken orange vertebral stripe between the dark blotches and often brightest anteriorly. Some examples, these often termed “anerythristic” by hobbyists, may lack the orange. Rarely—very rarely—the pattern of the dusky pyg may be lineate rather than blotched. On these examples the lateral blotches are usually entirely lacking and the orange vertebral stripe may be unbroken, bisecting both the gray ground color and the dark dorsal blotches. And now to the photos of this interesting little crotaline, click below…

It took a few tries but Lady Luck was finally with us: Brazos water snake.
It has been many years now since Kenny and I decided to look for, and actually did find, the two Texas water snakes that were then considered subspecies of the Harter’s water snake. These, then, were the Brazos water snake, N. harteri harteri, and the Concho water snake, N. harteri paucimaculata. Although of questionable validity studies have since elevated the 2 one time subspecies to full species.

At the time we sought these snakes we both lived in Florida so the initial distance between home and Palo Pinto County, TX was, shall we say, significant. Kenny is great at ferreting out valid locales for the taxa that we hope to photograph, but on the first attempt the water snakes did not cooperate. We searched upstream and downstream from a number of the riffles where they had formerly been seen. No water snakes—not even the rather common diamond-backed water snakes. We did find dozens of taxa to photograph on that trip but the target species was not among them.

But some months later, on the second trip, Kenny’s diligence paid off. On that occasion one of the rock-edged riffles disclosed its serpentine treasure and photos of the Brazos water snake were added to our library.

Next try would be for the Concho water snake.

More photos under the jump.