More amphibians, including the spectacular Tiger Salamander

An American Toad sits on a damp road. Fortunately most of the roads that I cruised this evening have nearly no traffic on them at night, so amphibian mortality is low. That's certainly not the case everywhere.

Last Wednesday evening turned out to be warm - temps in the 50's F - and rain started spitting around 9 pm. One often doesn't know whether conditions will be optimal for amphibian movements - warm and wet - until late in the afternoon the day of the show. That's how it was this day. I didn't pull the trigger to make the hour drive west to some productive back roads until late in the afternoon.

It was a fairly good call. I think a lot of the salamanders have already made their vernal runs to breeding pools, and departed back into subterranean haunts where they will remain out of sight until next spring. But enough amphibians were on the prowl that it was an interesting foray. In all, eight species were tallied: American Toad, Green Frog, Northern Leopard Frog, Spring Peeper, Western Chorus Frog, Eastern Tiger Salamander, Smallmouth Salamander, and Unisexual Salamander. 

A Northern Leopard Frog crouches before the photographer. During the day, these frogs are alert and wary, and making close approaches is far more difficult. After I finished photographing it, I gently picked up the frog, took it far into the grass on the side of the road that it was headed for, and set it down. The frog never flinched. Try that during daylight hours and see how cooperative a leopard frog is. It's far easier to work with amphibians at night, when they don't act nearly so warily.

An apparent "unisexual" salamander rears up like a dragon. They are so-named as virtually all the individuals in these populations are female. As you might expect, the dynamics behind this get complicated. Basically, the unisexuals pick up spermatophores from any of several species of "pure" related mole salamander species. Thus, they are able to fertilize their eggs but as a result are hybrid mixes. The animal in the photo might have the DNA of Blue-spotted, Jefferson, Smallmouth, and Tiger salamanders - maybe even Streamside salamanders. Probably still much to sort out with this phenomenon.

Finally, the Holy Grail of this evening's search, an Eastern Tiger Salamander. On a wet warm early to mid-March night such as this, I usually come across some crossing roads. Not this evening, and I suspect they were mostly done for the year and out of the pools. So, I went to a pool that I knew they used for breeding, and Voila! A few were still in the water, swimming and floating about like fish. 

The individual in the photo was actually in the act of leaving the pool, as I suspect most had already done. It was not particularly cooperative, hence the lack of stellar photos. The amphibian had places to go and was in a hurry to get there. I don't like messing around with salamanders too much, or touching them if at all possible. Usually a good tactic is to just cover a salamander with your hand, like a tent, for a bit. Often when you pull away, it'll remain frozen for a while, allowing for some shots. If you do see and decide to handle an amphibian, always make sure your hands are wet.

Eastern Tiger Salamanders are impressive beasts, with big ones reaching nine inches or so. They often breed in more open habitats than other Ambystoma mole salamanders. This particular pond is wide open, with no woods nearby. It's in an area where mass migrations of tigers have been observed, although I have not yet managed to catch one of those in progress. I'll keep trying, though.

A nice salamander run

 

A Spotted Salamander stares, seemingly curiously, at the photographer. The annual spring runs of salamanders is a phenomenon that is one of nature's great spectacles, and eagerly awaited by many people of a herpetological bent, yours truly included.

Last Thursday's weather proved perfect to stimulate a big run here in Central Ohio. It warmed to about 60 F, and rain kicked in in the afternoon and continued into the evening. Such conditions spur the "mole" salamanders to emerge en masse from subterranean lairs and march overland to vernal pools. Once there, a breeding frenzy ensues, as we shall see.

Big salamander migrations are nocturnal, and in addition to the amphibians, many other interesting nighttime creatures are likely to be found. This is an exceptionally showy Nurseryweb Spider, Pisaurina mira. This species can vary in overall coloration, and this one was a particularly pleasing shade of cinnamon. Many photos were made.

Mudbug on the move! Small numbers of crayfish often move along with the amphibians on warm rainy nights. I'm not sure exactly why; perhaps they are individuals seeking new turf. This is a Little Brown Mudbug, Lacunicambarus thomai, one of the burrowing species. I wrote about these, and this species in particular and its namesake, Roger Thoma, RIGHT HERE.

Crayfish make wonderful photo subjects, and I enjoy working with them. Watch those pincers, though. They aren't all bark and no bite. This mudbug was not too big, and I foolishly didn't take much caution in moving him to a better spot. He got a hold of my finger tip, and wouldn't let go for a minute or two. It's amazing the pinching power that even small crayfish have!

This young Green Frog, Lithobates clamitans, joined the parade. Frogs are always part of salamander nights. Most common, by far, on this evening were Spring Peepers. The Western Chorus Frog is usually numerous as well, but that species was not well represented on this excursion.

A handsome little Red-backed Salamander, Plethodon cinereus, poses nicely. This is one of the lungless salamanders and it does not breed in the vernal pools like the mole salamanders in the genus Ambystoma do. Nonetheless, Red-backs are usually wandering the forest floor on wet early spring evenings and we saw a dozen or so.

A Smallmouth Salamander, Ambystoma texanum, crosses a lichen-dappled log. While not as flashy as the Spotted Salamanders, under close inspection an intricate pattern of bluish-gray flecking is eye-catching and quite showy. I normally do not see too many Smallmouths at this site, but a few dozen made themselves known on this evening.

At this particular vernal pool complex, Spotted Salamanders are the undisputed stars of the show. There is a huge population here, and we saw hundreds. I'm sure thousands are present in this approximately 80-acre woodland. On a mass migration night, great care must be taken where one steps. It is like an amphibious army marching on the vernal pools.

Spotted Salamanders - all salamanders, actually - are wonderful photo subjects. They occasionally pause and rear up like this one. The better to get a sense of their surroundings, I suppose.

When we reached the main vernal pool, we knew we had timed it right. Hundreds - probably thousands, over the pool's entirety - of salamanders cavorted before us in a breeding frenzy sometimes termed "congressing". Beats the politicians any day of the week. A deafening chorus of Spring Peepers provides the soundtrack.

The male salamanders typically arrive a bit before the females and drop small whitish spermatophores into the water. Gravid females, fat with unfertilized eggs, then pick those up and use them to fertilize their eggs. In short order, big globular egg masses are deposited in the pool, and the salamanders vanish back into the woodland. It is a short-lived frenzy and one must drop everything and go afield on suitable nights or miss it. Most of the year, mole salamanders such as the Spotted Salamander live subterraneous lifestyles, out of sight and mind. I'm glad I was able to catch a performance this year, having missed the shows in 2020.

The amphibians arise!

A spotted salamander, Ambystoma maculatum, threads it way through a wet leafy forest floor. It, and many others of its kind, were on the march last Thursday evening. I always make time to go nocturnal with the first warm spring nights, and catch the eruption of amphibians - especially salamanders - as they rise and venture to breeding pools.

This is a smallmouth salamander, Ambystoma texanum, and it too was headed to a massive vernal pool complex. This animal and the preceding (and some of the upcoming) were found and photographed in Crawford County. Thanks to Josh Dyer with the Crawford County Park District for meeting up with Susan Nash and I, and sharing this place. If you get the opportunity to go to one of Josh's outings or programs, do it. CLICK HERE for information.

A spotted salamander rears up like a mini dragon, the better to see what kind of threat your narrator may pose. I am no threat, but cars certainly are. This one was crossing a roadway, and many don't make it across. On Wednesday night, I along with Cheryl Erwin visited one of my favorite sites, a wet woods in Logan County bisected by a rarely traveled country road. Big vernal pools bookend the roadway, and salamanders and other amphibians cross in droves. Even though few vehicles use the road, those that do pass by during migrations cause carnage. I was delighted to hear from LeeAnn Leslie Shively Swonguer that the township trustees recently closed the road temporarily during a big amphibian migration. That is awesome, and major kudos to LeeAnn as I suspect she had a lot to do with that. Many moist skins were saved that night.

The red eft larval stage of a red-spotted newt, Notophthalmus viridescens, crosses the roadway. An eft lives a terrestrial life for several years before entering the water of a pond or wetland, and living the remainder of its life as the adult newt. This particular road always has efts crossing it in early spring along with many other amphibians. I suspect they are making their final overland treks, and preparing to enter the water and transform into the adult stage.

A green frog, Lithobates clamitans, floats in several feet of cold water. I can tell you it was cold because I was standing in it.This particular pool was jamming with amphibians, and I quickly saw there would be photo opportunities here. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to throw my chest waders in the car, and only had knee boots. The water was far deeper than that. Oh well, if the frogs can stand it so can I, and in I went. Frogs are often FAR more approachable at night than they would be during daytime, and this one allowed me to get as close as I wanted.

Lots of frogs and some toads were crossing roads last Thursday night, taking advantage of the wet night to move to breeding sites. Included in their ranks was this gorgeous northern leopard frog, Lithobates pipiens. During the day, leopard frogs typically bound off in a series of enormous leaps, and can be rather difficult to approach closely. Not so at night. We lifted the girl off the road and placed her on a convenient stump for photographs, and to get her off the road. NOTE: If you must handle amphibians, make sure your hands are thoroughly wet so as to avoid damaging their skin. In general, it's best to not touch them, in my opinion, unless of course you are required to move them to safety.

I mentioned the frog is a "girl". You can tell the sexes apart by the size of the tympanum, or "ear" - that round spot directly behind the eye. In males, it is noticeably larger than the eye, and about the same size or slightly smaller in females.

The pools were alive with the sound of music - frog music. This is a western chorus frog, Pseudacris triseriata, singing away. Lots of them were rasping away just about anywhere there was a wetland. I recently wrote about this species in more detail HERE.

Click the video above for a brief recording of the distinctive song of a chorus frog, shot at close range in Josh's Crawford County vernal pool.

A tiny spring peeper, Pseudacris crucifer, glares at your narrator, who rather impolitely intruded on the frog's wetland.

Here's what a spring peeper in full puff looks like. I worked hard for this shot, I don't mind telling you. This was in the (cold!) wetland (with plenty of robust leeches!) that I waded around in for about one-half hour. My primary quest was to obtain good shots of singing peepers. Normally, in order to make such shots you have to enter the water, or at least your probability of encountering singers rises significantly if you do. Sure enough, I found about eight singing frogs, but all of them shut up as soon as I got within range. Finally, I spotted this guy over on the bank and he cooperated. Turns out I wouldn't have had to even go in the water to get the shot! Oh well, being one with the frogs is part of truly experiencing life in a frog-filled vernal pool.

I made this audio recording while standing waist deep in water, surrounded by numerous singing spring peepers. If you've never done this, you owe it to yourself. The din created by these tiny blowhards is mind-boggling. When in very close proximity, their calls actually hurt one's ears.

Get out and enjoy the peepers and other amphibians while you can. A person only has so many springs to experience, and you should not let even one of them slip by without listening to the music of the frogs.

Salamanders sluggish this spring

A gorgeous vernal pool at Stratford Ecological Center in Delaware County, Ohio stands ready to receive its annual deposit of salamanders. But the salamanders have been slow to come. I was at this pool last night, hoping to see a barrage of amphibians trucking through the woods and into the pool's placid waters, but the invasion never materialized. As was the case the only other time I've been out salamandering this spring, the evening started off looking good: decently warm, and plenty wet. But come nightfall, temperatures rapidly plummeted and before long had dipped to the low 40's. That's a bit chilly even for hardy hypothermia-defying salamanders.

I carefully slogged around the pool's margins, and saw no spermatophores (the male salamander's sperm packets), or egg masses. There were probably were some, but nothing like there should be had the salamanders arrived in full force. I think they'll get to the vernal pools eventually, but this spring's crazy cool weather with barely a warm rainy night has delayed the migration of the salamanders. If you are not acquainted with the spring migration of mole salamanders, which is one of Nature's fantastic spectacles, CLICK HERE.

That's not to say we didn't see any. Several stunning Spotted Salamanders, Ambystoma maculatum, made an appearance. When photographers sight a salamander, they'll typically pose the animal on some bright green moss, or a downed log. There's probably no harm in that, as long as one is gentle with the animal and the handler takes care to keep his/her hands wet. But in the case of the above photo, no posing was necessary. I was surprised and elated to shine my flashlight's beam up the path, and see this male Spotted Salamander perched beautifully atop this branch. I was able to make a series of images without ever touching the animal.

We also found a few of the much duller Smallmouth Salamanders, Ambystoma texanum. This species may be the most resilient of our mole salamanders, occupying a wider range of wetland habitats than their fellow mole salamander species.

This is the Spotted Salamander that posed on the log a few photos back, now on the forest floor and navigating unerringly to the vernal pool.

And here we have what must be a gravid (pregnant) female. Look at the size of that belly! Presumably she is full of eggs, and once in the pond's waters she'll uptake the spermatophore of a male and thus fertilize them. The eggs, upon contact with water, expand greatly and become conspicuous gelatinous masses.

I am of the (hopeful) opinion that most of the mole salamanders have yet to make the march to the breeding pools, at least here in central Ohio. There does not appear to be a warm rainy night on the horizon for a week or so, but when such a night arrives I suspect many more salamanders will be out and migrating. If at all possible, I'll be out in the night, camera in hand, to document these amazing creatures.