An Unusual Encounter (read info text for story)

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My best photos (mostly not on Flickr) are here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/western-green-lizard-lacerta-bi...

 

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:

The fella above looks like he's about to devour me any second, but I'm happy to report that I survived the unusual encounter with him without any injuries and remain completely undigested 😄 - in fact, he didn't even threaten me.

 

It's a juvenile green whip snake (Hierophis viridiflavus), a non-venomous colubrid species which I photographed in my garden in Ticino (Switzerland), but as with all my pictures on Flickr, I'll try to give you a bit more context.

 

First of all, you have to know that I adore snakes - even though they have the nasty habit of preying on my beloved green lizards - but if you now wonder why I so far only uploaded a single snake photo here before today, the answer is that until relatively recently, I hardly had any.

 

The reasons for this are simple: our snakes are very shy, plus they're far from abundant. If you're lucky, you might be able to spot one, but if it also becomes aware of you, it will inevitably be gone long before you have your camera ready.

 

The history of human-snake interaction in Switzerland (and particularly in Ticino) has sadly not been a happy one for the reptiles, and every snake knows this. Out of ignorance, superstition and the fear they might be venomous - which most snakes in Switzerland aren't - people beat them to death wherever they found them for centuries, so you can't blame our serpentine friends for hissing "Hell, no!" and slithering to safety as fast as they can whenever they see or sense a human approaching.

 

There are exceptions of course; our vipers and adders sometimes rely on their camouflage and keep still rather than fleeing when you get near them - which still doesn't mean that they're inclined to pose for a selfie with you, mind - but around my village I sadly haven't come across one of those in over two decades.

 

So I've rarely been lucky in the snake department, but, as the famous saying goes, "luck is when preparation meets opportunity", and I took that to heart. Two years ago, I built piles of rocks and heaps of dry grass and twigs and branches all over the garden to provide basking spots and hiding places - not just for snakes but for reptiles in general - and this worked better than I could ever have hoped.

 

First the western green lizards came back (they had previously been driven out of my garden by my neighbors' cats), and then the snakes started showing up. Particularly the species H. viridiflavus now seems to feel very much at home on my premises, and so the opportunities to photograph my serpentine friends have increased dramatically.

 

They still flee as soon as they become aware of me, so a good shot is rarely a given, but since I made my my garden more reptile-friendly, the odds of getting a usable photo have gotten much, much better. Which finally brings me to the fella above.

 

I spotted the youngster one morning in early summer, and because I (almost) always have my camera at the ready when I enter my garden, I was able to photograph him from afar before he saw me and disappeared.

 

As I went back into the house to check the photos, I noticed something interesting. As expected, they were pretty bad, because I hadn't been able to get close enough, but when I enlarged them, it seemed there was something in the snake's mouth.

 

It looked like a small rib cage, but I couldn't be sure, so I went back into the garden to investigate, hoping the snake might have left behind whatever it had been eating when I scared it away.

 

And indeed, when I inspected the woodpile beneath my palm tree where I had photographed the young snake, I saw a lizard carcass. It was nothing but a rib cage with some skin and hardly any meat left - plus the two quite intact seeming hind legs.

 

This was very strange; as far as I was aware, green whip snakes didn't eat carrion. On the contrary: they are known to be very agile hunters - they're actually the fastest European snake species - and only eat live prey. That lizard carcass was anything but that: by the look (and smell!) of it, it was at least a couple of days old, if not more, and other animals had already done a pretty good job gnawing off the meat.

 

As I was still contemplating the meaning of all this, I suddenly realized something even more unusual: the snake was still there! Only a foot length away from the the dead lizard it was lurking in the shadows, motionless, observing me.

 

Now this was really exceptional; as already mentioned, our snake species are generally very shy, but the shiest among them are definitely the green whip snakes. In my experience, they never return to the exact same spot once you've scared them away, at least not within such a short time frame.

 

I slowly backed away, hoping not to spook it, cursing myself for leaving the camera attached to the computer as I went back into the house to get it. When I returned, the snake thankfully hadn't disappeared, and so I very carefully set up the tripod with the camera in front of the woodpile and waited.

 

After a few minutes, the snake started moving. It had a length of maybe 60-70 cm, and I would have guessed its age at around 2 to 3 years (the species can grow to a length of 150 cm, in rare cases even to almost 2 meters, which makes it one of the biggest European snake species).

 

The little guy was clearly aware of me, but those putrid lizard ribs were just too enticing to resist. Once he had reached the smelly object of his desire, he started to swallow it while at the same time trying to drag it away from the nasty human, back into the shadows.

 

Both tasks proved very difficult, however, which was very comical to watch. The carcass - the remains of a pretty sizable common wall lizard - kept getting stuck between the twigs and branches of the woodpile, but it was also simply too big for the snake's tiny mouth (while a body length of around 70 cm might seem respectable, juveniles of this species still have a rather small head by comparison).

 

The young snake kept trying; several times it let go of its stinky treat only to attempt to swallow it again, from pretty much every angle, but it just wouldn't work. This was exhausting business, and so in between attempts the snake understandably took some breaks, basking on the woodpile for a few minutes, before it went back to work with new vigor. It also had to clear its throat from time to time and readjust its jaws, and during one such moment I took the photo above.

 

In the end, it managed to drag the dead lizard out of my sight into the woodpile, at which point I left the little fella (I had been photographing and filming the scene for over an hour, and by now I felt nearly as exhausted as the snake just from watching the whole ordeal; btw, the film clip is here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8x0tBpRTck ).

 

When I returned to the woodpile almost two hours later, the snake had come out again, still fiercely trying to devour the dead lizard. I was impressed; this time I didn't stay, because I didn't want to disturb the little guy again with my presence, but as I left I thought admiringly: "That's what I call dedication!"

 

As always, many thanks for reading and commenting: have a great start into the new week everyone! ❤🙏😊

 

P.S. @ willjatkins Did you ever encounter this species feasting on carrion or hear of such behavior, Will?

Done