Herping after Dark in the Florida Panhandle

Here's a post from someone you haven't heard recently. I've been busy--very busy. It is not unusual for me to work 14 hours in a day and 9 hours is a short one. I worked hard this week and managed to keep up with all the homework and quiz grading common in the life of a college biology teacher. At the end of the day I rolled out of work at 4:00pm. Nine hours. After a quick dinner and an episode of John Acorn's Nature Nut show I grabbed my Nikon and a minnow trap and danced out the door.
Sometimes I have to schedule my moments of enjoyment just as religiously as my work and education. I'd been planning a trip out to set my minnow trap for a couple weeks and a Friday night seemed like a good time to me. However, my graduate class was hanging over my head as I pulled from the campus and I'm hoping I don't regret my choice of activity for the night. Good grades are encouraging but it's no excuse to procrastinate.
I had hoped to set a minnow trap at Tarkiln Bayou but that is a state park and I imagine it would be less than legal to remove any fish or wildlife from the park. However, I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. Whenever I have questions about the local wildlife I always find my way to Mr. Micah Bowman's office. A tall, lanky man with relaxed enthusiasm for zoology, Mr. Bowman spent his childhood in the panhandle and is far more adept at finding cool critters than I could ever hope to be. I asked my fellow faculty member if there were any places he could recommend for a minnow trap. His answer, always nonchalant, was so obvious I was embarrassed. West Campus was college property and fishing was encouraged.

I nailed these photos of a grass pickerel (Esox americanus) at Tarkiln Bayou last year (2014) near the end of November. I have been hoping to get a couple for my 120 gallon aquarium back home.

Yes, they are cannibals. My aquarium has three turtles at the present so trying to put some fish in there might be a bad idea. Sunfish would be nice but I find the predatory pickerel completely fascinating. I pulled the trap from the back of my minivan and made the short jaunt to the slough.
As I approached the rickety bridge over the algae-choked waters I spotted a black disk lying in the grass. It was just passed 7pm and the battery was low on my headlamp. I had to get close to see that it was a small cottonmouth snake (Agkistrodon piscivorus). Cottonmouths have a highly hemolytic venom that causes blood cells to rupture and tissues to break down, practically rotting off. However, I was delighted. In my excitement I ran back to my van to grab my ever-handy snake tongs and returned to where I'd dropped my trap before long. The snake was still there and I caught the snake without too much of a fuss. One strike and some degree of warning. It amazes me how placid these potentially lethal snakes are. This one seemed to have an especially calm disposition. The characteristic wide-open mouth display is an obvious message to threats. I carried the snake to the beach and took a few photos on the sand. Delightful.

Pumped with herpetological enthusiasm, I released the snake and started searching for more reptiles and amphibians with my headlamp. A southern toad (Bufo terrestris) hopped out of my way and soon I was running around the grass giggling like a four year old catching frogs.

Rana sphenocephala, the leopard frog. Loads of fun chasing these guys through the grass and catching them.

In the end I threw my trap over the bridge and watched it sink to the bottom. I tied the knot and headed back to my van. It was a good time and I don't regret it yet.

Places: Beaver Ridge Family Campground

For the 4th of July, many of the REU biology students (including myself) decided to go camping for the long weekend. Leaving Friday afternoon, we ventured to the campground where I did some exploring in the evening. At around 9, we left to see some fireworks.

The next day was spent primarily in Potato Creek State Park (stay tuned for more posts), but there was a surprising variety of wildlife at this farm country campground. Birds were plentiful. Some of the species I spotted were cuckoos, song sparrows, American crows, common grackles, red-winged blackbirds, yellow warblers, mourning doves, and gray catbirds, to name a few. The catbirds were particularly interesting, since they had a nest with young ones not far from where we had built a fire. I am always surprised by the simple insight of people who do not normally have an active interest in wildlife. One of the girls sitting around the fire noticed fairly quickly that the catbird sounded, well, like a cat. A young kitten, she specified, but a cat nonetheless. Of course, it suddenly became obvious to me that it did sound kind of like the mew of a cat, but I'd never really thought about it before that.

Mammals in the park were primarily noticed by sign alone. White-tailed deer and beavers, for example, left both tracks and chew marks (yes, dear leave "chew marks" when the bit the tops of tender plants). A rabbit in our site was affectionately dubbed "Paulo." Red squirrels scampered amid the pine trees near the trails. However, I think my favourite mammal encountered at Beaver Ridge were the coyotes. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, a coyote, somewhere far across the corn fields, began wailing at the hazy, moonlit sky. Not surprisingly, more joined in, yapping and howling for a minute or so. As they quieted down, only the green frogs "goinking" in the slough continued to communicate with one another. With coyotes and green frogs completing my outdoor experience for the day I drifted off to sleep.

Green frogs weren't the only amphibians encountered around the slough. I also heard the odd bullfrog. Around the edges of this slough in the evening, there were manny juvenile amphibians. Having metamorphosed from their tadpole form, wood frogs and American toads climbed the hills and spread out into the forest.
As for reptiles, I caught one eastern garter snake. However, it was a special moment. Once the snake calmed down, I was able to carry it over to the campsites and allow people to touch and hold the snake as they pleased. Thankfully the snake remained calm and it was much needed good publicity for a group of animals that have an unjust reputation.
There were plenty of harvestmen (arachnids) in the campground, some of which carried mites. The fireflies, unlike anything we get in the northwest, are truly magical. In forests at dusk, it is amazing to see the multitude of blinking lights. Amazing.

Of course, there were fireworks for the 4th of July. No the one above is not a horrible explosion amid a stupefied crowd. Wait... that's kind of what fireworks are. Beautiful, horrible explosions. It's actually quite difficult to get good photos of fireworks. All these were taken on manual and, with the exception of cropping, are unedited. I think they turned out pretty good. When I have access to the right resources, I'll put up the full stop-motion of the grand finale.

Sorry. Couldn't help but end on a natural note. The moon, even in its plain grey costume, seems to have a unique beauty that surpasses that of fireworks.