Herp-in-habitat photography
View allAll Photos Tagged herps
Here is a Yellow-headed collared lizard from Southeastern Utah last spring. They can be much more vibrant than this young one.
This was the friendliest gopher snake in the world. I started out with my 600mm lens but then when it let me get too close for that I switched to my iPhone. They're usually pretty aggressive so I kept my distance but it seemed curious about me and actually slithered toward me. I put my hand flat on the ground and it eventually crawled right into my hand. That's definitely a first for me with a gopher snake. It was about 4 feet long so didn't all fit in my hand but quickly found its way up my arm.
Close shot of a Northern Water snake(Nerodia sipedon). Maybe its after that dragonfly nymph. Wildwood Lake, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. HMM
I found two box turtles along the bike path this evening. Neither were willing participate in my wild photo adventure.
Samsung Galaxy S7, 1/125 sec at f/1.7, ISO 40, 4.2mm, flash, close distance.
28 Jun 2018, Saluda Shoals Park, Irmo, SC, USA.
"RIDING THE FLAME" - WESTERN GREEN LIZARD (LACERTA BILINEATA) | ADULT FEMALE ON TRUMPET VINE | 09-2023 | TICINO | SWITZERLAND
In case you're interested, you'll find the whole "Flame Rider" series and the other photos taken on that day here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/post/western-green-lizards-in-t...
More Ticino/Tessin Wildlife Photos (all taken in my garden in Monteggio/Ti, Switzerland): de.lacerta-bilineata.com/westliche-smaragdeidechse-lacert...
And my most recent BIRD VIDEO (a goldfinch invasion in my garden) you can find here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvVNEYPfFtU
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
The shot above was for once NOT taken in my garden, but instead I captured this "lady of the flame" last September in the Maggia Valley - named after the river Maggia - which also lies in Ticino, but approximately at an hour's drive from my house in Monteggio.
I had been invited there by my good friend Evie who spends a lot of time in that gorgeous natural paradise, completely off grid in a little "rustico" (that's what the ancient, traditionally built stone houses are called in Ticino). She and I have known each other since we were toddlers, and she's as much a nature nerd and photo nut as I am, so I was very much looking forward to a day of exploring this beautiful valley with a fellow wildlife paparazzo.
Around 9am I got off the bus and strolled head-on into the marvelous wilderness where my friend had instructed me to. Evie had offered to come get me at the bus stop, but I assured her it would be a piece of cake for me to find the place on my own; the rustico was only approximately 20 minutes away in the forest, and her directions sounded easy enough. But she insisted I call her once I reached a small clearing in the woods so she could come and fetch me, because there was supposed to be a hidden shortcut from there to the house.
Like in most men - and I'm sure ALL women know this about us - there lives a stubborn little boy inside my head that fancies himself the ultimate survival expert and never wants to rely on anybody else's directions (I call that fella "Jungle-Mike" 😉 ), so I had memorized a satellite image of the area beforehand, and I now felt confident enough to leave the trail and head straight for the river through the woods - and instantly got lost. 😂
But of course, Mr Survival Expert was too absorbed with his (mis-) adventure in the underbrush to realize he was heading in the wrong direction: an army of brambles was more than happy to welcome such a worthy adversary as was good ole' "Jungle Mike" and drew first blood immediately, but I fought back bravely and heroically escaped their thorny clutches to make it - though not exactly unscathed - to the river bank.😅
So far, my trip was a complete success: I had found the Maggia river, which had been my goal after all (as I said: "piece of cake" 😁 ). Now all I needed to do was get across. If I had been smart enough to follow Evie's instructions, I would have come to a bridge (the satellite photo had corroborated that), but in my valiant struggle against the undergrowth I had ended up much further downstream than intended, and there was no bridge to be seen.
A decision had to be made. Calling my friend and simply asking for new directions never crossed my mind ("Jungle-Mike don't phone!"), nor did I want to waste more time by walking upstream in search of the bridge. Instead I took off my shoes and waded into the shallow looking river, praying the current wouldn't get too strong and my expensive camera gear wouldn't take a plunge.
Thankfully, this was a stretch of the Maggia where the water never got more than knee-deep, but the ground was very uneven as well as slippery, and the current DID get pretty strong. I wobbled through the stream like a drunk duck, desperately trying not to slip on the algae-covered stones or lose my balance. It must have looked very comical to any outside observers (and "Jungle-Mike" was very pleased there were none of those around 😉 ).
I made it to the other side without sacrificing any of my belongings to the river gods, but my feet were now wet, and I had to continue my journey into the woods barefoot for a while. This meant I had to concentrate hard and scan the ground before every step, because this was chestnut country, and let me tell you: collecting chestnut spines with one's soft, rosy feet is about as much fun as stepping on a sea urchin!
It couldn't have been more than 20 minutes since I had left the bus stop, but I was already sweating profusely from sheer exertion, when I finally found the meadow where I was supposed to call my friend (it had to be the right clearing, since I was sure I hadn't seen any other open spaces in the forest on the satellite photo).
I dialed her number, and she answered immediately. 3 Minutes later Evie materialized out of the trees like a kind forest spirit that had come to rescue me. Of course I did my best not to show how relieved I was to see her. "Was it easy to find?" she asked as we walked up the trail to the house. "Piece of cake," Jungle-Mike answered. 😜
The rustico stood in the midst of little meadow, surrounded by gorgeous old oak and chestnut trees. It had a few small solar panels on the roof that powered some lights and a tiny fridge, but heating and cooking were only possible with firewood, and the water came from a nearby spring. A shower or bathtub wasn't needed: the Maggia river provided for that.
After a hard-earned cup of coffee - "Savor it," Evie said, "I had to work for half an hour for that, and it will take me another half hour to make another one" - we finally got going. Evie led the way; I tried my best to keep up with her pace as she gracefully darted through the woods, until she stopped when we arrived at a narrow hiking trail. "This is the best part," she proclaimed, "I always wanted to show you this: there's lots of your favorite lizards along this stretch of the trail."
The path she had chosen led us through the magnificent wilderness of the Maggia valley, but every once in a while a derelict rustico or parts of a stone wall of some ancient enclosure for goats or sheep would appear on either side of the way - remnants of a long gone era when all of this was farm land. And my friend was right: my favorite reptiles - the western green lizards (Lacerta bilineata) - apparently thrived here!
Every couple of meters we were greeted by yet another impressive green fella basking on the warm stones (the sky was overcast, but we could feel the heat of the still powerful September sun coming through the clouds), and every single one of the reptiles would be announced in advance by Evie. "Watch out, there's usually a big one right there," she would say, or: "Slow down a bit, the one that normally sits on that wall behind the next curve is a little shy."
Western green lizards are very territorial and can often be found in the same spots, and so Evie had begun to give some of them names as if they were her pets: "The fella we're about to see on that rock over there has a partially regrown tail; I call him 'Stummeli'," (which means "stunted" in Swiss German); "He never takes flight, and you can practically touch him."
I was indeed struck by the fact that many of the lizards here showed little to no fear when we approached them - which was in stark contrast to the Lacerta bilineata population in my own village - and my camera got so busy that I feared the shutter would start to glow and throw sparks! 😊
It was an incredible trip, and I can honestly say without exaggeration that this part of the Maggia Valley was one of the most beautiful places I'd ever visited. And never have I seen so many western green lizards within such a short a period of time as I did during that hike! Mating season was over, so the males lacked the intense blue facial colors they usually display from April to June, but they still looked absolutely amazing.
The highlight of our little expedition - at least for me since Evie had already been here countless times - was when we got to a cluster of abandoned rustici in the midst of the forest. It might have been a village once; now the crumbling stone buildings were overgrown by grapevines that had escaped an ancient vineyard, and awkwardly bent apple trees that were covered in lichen and moss grew between the sunken ruins.
These veterans were probably the last descendants of the trees that once grew in a long since disappeared orchard; there was also a huge fig tree growing out of a collapsed house - and it was carrying plenty of fruit, which didn't go unnoticed by my now growling stomach.
Evie and I quickly descended upon the figs - which were sweet and juicy - and I couldn't help but think of "Hansel and Gretel" feasting on the wicked witch's gingerbread house. The whole scenery indeed looked like something straight out of a fairy tale - or a fantasy novel like 'Lord of the Rings'. And it was here, in this magical place, that I captured the "flame rider" you can see in the photo above.
The hungry lizard lady was looking for six-legged treats in a gorgeous trumpet vine (Campsis radicans) that grew over the roof of one of the ruins; the image above shows her right before she dove into the flaming orange flower to get at whatever bug she had spotted inside. She buried her head completely in the flower, which I thought looked very funny (if you're interested, you can find those photos here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/post/western-green-lizards-in-t... )
What else is there to say (unsurprisingly, this anecdote has once again gotten much longer than I intended 😄 ); I guess you can tell by my rambling that, my initial "detour" not withstanding, visiting my friend in the Maggia Valley was a fantastic experience. I certainly hope to return there soon (and who knows, maybe next time I'll even manage to leave "Jungle-Mike" at home 😉 ).
Thanks for looking (and READING if you made it to this point 😁); many greetings from Ticino, and have a wonderful Sunday and great start into the new week everyone! 🙏 😊 ❤
As always, let me know what you think in the comments (I hope you'll forgive me for breaking my own rule and - for once - posting a shot that I didn't take in my garden 😄).
Broken River, Eungella National Park, Queensland, Australia
Contact me on jono_dashper@hotmail.com for use of this image.
Finely, a willing subject. It's been a slow wildlife photography month around here.
Nikon D7200, Nikon 200-500mm. 1/250 sec at f/8, ISO 400, 500mm.
3 Dec 2018, Columbia, SC, USA.
Showing the characteristic gold 'glitter' which separates them from all-black toad tadpoles. I never realised that the 'glitter' on the 'eyebrows' was silver though!
Garden pond.
Pacific Grove, Monterey County, California, USA.
The use of any of my photos, of any file size, for any purpose, is subject to approval by me. Contact me for permission. Image files are available upon request. My email address is available at my Flickr profile page. Or send me a FlickrMail.
I am going to be posting some really old photos of snakes for a while to get them onto flickr. I wanted to upload the full size versions here to have in my albums. Some of these I uploaded a long time ago in very small sizes and those old images in some cases taken 15 years ago are really showing their age on modern 4k screens. This one was taken back in 2010 with the Fuji HS10 which was an upgrade from the Fuji S7000 I had been shooting. In looking back through old photos I think that S7000 actually took better sharper shots.
This gator and I were stalking the same egret - but for different reasons.
10 Mar 2019, Savannah National Wildlife Refuge, Hardeeville, SC, USA.
An absolutely spectacular adult male Truong Son Pit Viper (Trimeresurus truongsonensis) found coiled in an ambush posture within an elevated, shallow rock cleft at a limestone cave entrance in karst rainforest within the magnificent Phong Nha-Ke Bang NP in the Quang Binh Province of central Vietnam.
This species was quite recently described. It is currently regarded as endemic to the karst rainforest incorporating the Annamite Mountain Range, an area notable for its overall high endemism and species diversity. It is an area recently subjected to intensive scientific scrutiny because of these attributes. For example, a collaboration between German and Vietnamese researchers culminated in 46 published papers dealing with the herpetofauna of Phong Nha - Ke Bang alone, from 2000-2009!
In line with so many species recorded from the Annamite region that are currently regarded as endemic for Vietnam, it's occurrence in similar habitats in neighbouring Laos cannot be excluded.
Taken with a Canon EOS 5D Mark IV DSLR coupled to a vintage Contax/Yashica mount Yashica 55/2.8 1:2 ML macro lens from the 1970's. Shot wide open @ 2.8 with a little flash-fill.