Adult matamatas, like this 10 incher, are darker in color than the hatchlings.I was walking and netting slowly in the shallows of the Rio Orosa (Amazonian Peru) hoping against hope to find young marbled swamp eels, Suriname toads, aquatic caecilians, or baby electric eels. So far I had found only a few tetra and cichlid species but it was getting late and I was getting tired. Lightning rent the sky and illuminated the towering cumulus clouds miles distant, closer to the Rio Amazonas. Another scoop produced a few more fish and a 3” long rock. Whoops. There are no rocks like that in the Amazon. I had scooped a baby matamata, Chelus fimbriatus, from the grassy shallows. And after 20+ years of scooping it remains the only one I have ever personally found.

There is no other turtle in the world that even approximates the appearance of the matamata. The mud-colored, rough textured, flattened, oblong, carapace bears 3 prominent keels. The plastron is small and provides virtually no protection to the underside of the limbs or neck. The neck is horizontally flattened and prominently fringed. The head is flattened, bears triangular temporal lobes, a snorkel like nose, small eyes, and a wide curved jaw. Neck and head are mud-brown dorsally. Ventrally the head and neck of adults (they can reach a length of 16”) are usually dark but young examples have a pinkinsh chin and 3 very pink, broad, throat stripes .

But enough words. The accompanying pix will better explain the overall appearance of this remarkable turtle. Enjoy.

Hatchling spotted turtles usually have only a single spot in each carapacial scute. These may increase in number as the turtle ages.
Strange though it may seem, the beautiful and aptly named spotted turtle, Clemmys guttata, has been hiding in many of its disjunct Florida ranges pretty much in plain sight. Now the lone species in the genus Clemmys, the spotted turtle has an immense, but disjunct, range that reaches on one leg of the range from southeastern Canada westward to eastern Illinois and on the other leg southward from southeastern Maine through the eastern seaboard states to central Florida. Everywhere secretive, it is nowhere more so than in Florida.

Because of examples found along Interstate 4, what is thought to be the southernmost population (Polk County) is rather well documented. From there it jumps spottily northward along the east coast to Duval County and westward to Hamilton and Wakulla counties. Long known to occur in north central Florida, the Alachua County population is currently being tracked and documented by FWC biologists. There they are finding that the population is more robust than was expected. This is encouraging in a world where so many other herp species are being extirpated or actually becoming extinct. And if you happen to find a spotted turtle, either dead or alive, in Florida, please take a moment to contact and advise the Florida Fish and Wildlife Commission.

Adult Colombian red ears may attain 10" in length and the pattern becomes suffused with melanin.
No doubt worse for the baby turtles than for the humans who bought them, there was a time- span of several decades (until 1975 when the sale of turtles having a carapace length of less than 4” became illegal) when hatchling red-eared sliders, Cumberland sliders, and Mississippi map turtles were sold over the counters of almost every five and dime store in the nation. In that time frame the little turtles were hatched in Gulf Coast turtle farms by the tens of thousands. But it was soon apparent that despite the immense numbers produced, the little reptiles became unavailable for several months each year. To the rescue of the industry came the South American country of Colombia.

Their baby turtles, both red-eared sliders and Amazon sidenecks, hatched at a different time of the year and became available as a “fill in” for the months when the American species were not available.

Thus, we were introduced to the Colombian red-eared slider. Then (when subspecies were in vogue), this pretty turtle was known as Pseudemys scripta callirostris. Today this same species is known as Trachemys callirostris, and it, like many other once common pet trade species, is no longer often seen.

Adult Mt. Kenya bush vipers are clad in a contrasting pattern of black and yellow.

It was back in the 1970s I acquired my first Mt. Kenya bush viper, Atheris desaixii. I hadn’t been looking for the taxon and I’m not even sure that I was aware of the existence of this viperine species until then.

Even then the acquisition was happenstance. I got a phone call one night from Hank Molt. It was back in those old those old days when Hank was “king of the herp rarities.”

“Dick. I know you like bush vipers and I’ve got one here that you just have to see.” It’s from Mt. Kenya and you’ve got to see it. C’mon up.” The fact that I was in Tampa and Hank was in Philadelphia was of small consequence. I hopped on the next northbound Delta and was soon in Philadelphia.

Hank met me at the airport and an hour later I was staring at one of the prettiest snakes I had until then seen. About 2 feet long, the ground color was charcoal and besides almost every dorsal and lateral scale bearing a tiny dot of butter yellow, the yellow was carried over into an intricate pattern.

When I asked Hank the price of the snake I was taken aback. Back in those days herps were usually quite affordable. This one teetered on the brink of being non-affordable. But I wanted the snake, Hank wanted to sell it, and after a bit of bargaining, it became mine. Ahhhh. Those were the good old days!

Scarlet Kingsnake! Need I say more?
Levy County is huge and still relatively untrammeled in many areas. Lately I have been spending less and less time fieldherping and more time birding, pursuits said by some to be relatively similar but that I find vastly different.

It was not until I had turned and was well on the way out that I noticed the remains of a huge long dead pine. But it was not the standing pine, itself well hidden in a canopy of green, that had caught my eye. Rather it was a huge fallen limb, a foot or more in diameter, that beckoned.

I slowed the car, passed, continued about 100 yards then decided to stop. Backing up that final 100 yards took only a few seconds. Shift lever in park, I stepped from the car and walked the couple of dozen few feet to the limb, shifted one end of it an inch or two, stepped back, looked down, and found myself staring at what until that moment been a well-hidden partial coil—red, black, yellow, black red—a beautiful, adult, scarlet king, Lampropeltis triangulum elapsoides. A worthwhile stop indeed.

Body color can vary to blend with the substrate.
It was just past sunup and I was walking a boardwalk over a saltmarsh in Levy County when I noticed the chunky, charcoal-on-gray snake lying loosely coiled on some bent over marsh grasses. A little further on there was another in what seemed an easily duplicated scene and then a third. In fact, the only divergence from this snake-on-the-grass format, from what I had begun to think of as the “norm” after seeing it over and over on the last 2 trips occurred almost at the end of my stroll where the elevated walkway passed through a stand of mangroves. There, a slender, more alert, and more brightly colored yearling Gulf salt-marsh snake, Nerodia clarkii clarkii, took immediate notice of my not so stealthy approach and with alacrity moved from its sunny position on the walkway into the darkness and obscurity of the mangrove branches.

Simple statistics: Since being described in 1853, this small water snake has had an unsettled nomenclatural history (Regina clarkii – Baird & Girard 1853, Tropidonotus clarkii – Cope 1861, Natrix clarki – Allen 1932, Natrix sipedon clarki – Conant 1958, Natrix fasciata clarki – Conant 1975, Nerodia clarkii clarkii – Conant & Collins 1991). When healthy this snake is of moderate girth, seldom exceeds 30” in adult length but is often 21 to 25 inches, with females being the larger sex. Dorsal ground color can vary between tan or pale gray to charcoal and there are 4 darker stripes, 2 dorsal and 2 lateral. There are from one to 3 rows of lightspots on the belly.

A burrowing frog floating quietly between the bleating calls.
So What’s a Waaaaaaaa-mooch?

It was probably about 1949 or 1950 when I learned of the "waaaaaaa-mooch." A couple of my favorite childhood books were by naturalist Ivan T. Sanderson. And it was in his "Living Treasure" (published in 1941) that he discussed his first encounter with this, the tropical Mexican burrowing frog Rhinophrynus dorsalis. He perceived its vocalizations as a series of long, mournful, “waaaaaaa-moooooch” cries

Despite its name, this frog may actually be found well beyond Mexico. It is known to range from Costa Rica northward to southern Texas, but its distribution is spotty. Additionally, the frog is very secretive, usually emerging from its burrows to forage only during heavy rains, and to breed only during sustained torrential rains.

It was during a hurricane event in Texas’ LRGV that I finally met this anuran in the state. It had been pouring for 2 days and the countryside was awash. Gusty rain was driven in through the cracked windows. I was soaked. A flooded ditch and beyond that a flooded pasture… Then a chorus of waaaaaaaAAAHHHHS.

Different dialect but the very same eagerly sought frog.

In the ditch were a number of triangle shaped faces. As I watched I saw that those tiny frog faces were attached to inflated bodies that bobbed up in down in time with their calls, a bit like a flattened carousel where the horses go up and down in time to the music.
Success.