The Urban Pantheist

This little one, if it is fortunate, will someday be 6 inches long or so. Spotted salamanders Ambystoma maculatum* are among the biggest salamanders in New England, perhaps because they are able to take shelter from our harsh winters. In the worst weather they refuge in the burrows of other animals, especially (apparently) those of short-tailed shrews. At other times they remain in the leaf litter and debris of the forest, hunting for soft-bodied prey. Very briefly they convene in ponds, preferably those without fish, to reproduce. Friends of mine predict the day of this event with regular success, heading out on a rainy spring night to photograph hundreds of salamanders on their way to the ponds.


* Ambystoma - amblys (Greek) for blunt; -stoma (Greek) meaning mouth; or anabystoma (New Latin) meaning ‘to cram into the mouth’
Maculatum means spotted.

I picked up a big piece of Dedham granite with the intention of hurling it at the center of a section of yew wood, in order to break it into firewood size. I noticed a moist worm under the rock, then paused realizing that the worm was actually two salamanders.

Despite the color difference between these, they are the same species, Plethodon cinereus, the "red-backed salamander." The one here that is not red-backed might be called a lead-backed salamander, as in the color of lead, the metal. Growing up in western New England, turning over rocks and logs I saw hundreds of redbacks, but I can't remember seeing the lead-backed phase. I discussed this with some of last week's Urban Nature Walk participants, and consensus seemed to be that lead-backs are more common in eastern New England.

Throughout New England, and much of North America, this species is far and away the most numerous of the tailed amphibians, particularly in those ecosystems affected by human impacts. These small lungless creatures are predators of tiny invertebrates. They survive by keeping moist and allowing oxygen to dissolve directly into their bodies through their skin.

At one point I figured we'd seen about all that we could in the botanical garden, but my dad wanted to keep walking. We found this little pond, and there was a couple on a park bench by it. Just a couple feet in front of them was another (maybe the same?) great egret. This was a pretty imperturbable bird! We moved quietly closer, and saw that there were also ducks and at least one gallinule near the couple. They were eating, and tossing some bread crumbs to the birds. The ducks and gallinule were happily eating the bread. They tossed some near the egret, which took a predatory pose and struck, and came up with a big fish! When my snapshot alarm went off I set the self-timer so that I could get a shot of my dad and myself, with this story in the background.

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Red-backed salamander Plethodon cinereus

I was clearing debris in the back yard when I picked up a chunk of broken cinderblock and found a cherished old friend. When I was a young boy playing in the woods of Stafford Connecticut, turning over logs was my favorite pastime. Most of the time I'd find just a few sowbugs, maybe a centipede or some earthworms. But if the conditions were right--moist but not soggy, leaf litter without too many pine needles--I'd find a salamander. That was always a delight.

The red-backed salamander is far and away the most common tailed amphibian in New England. In fact, one often-repeated notion is that the total mass of red-backed salamanders in the Northeast is greater than that of any other animal. Probably not, but it's a neat idea. Here is a remarkable creature, with a backbone but no lungs, an amphibian that never goes to water but lays its eggs in the wet debris of a suburban lawn.

The red-backed salamander was relatively recently featured on this blog as More Urban Species #39.

So my boss, Dr. Eric Baitchman, when he isn't taking care of all of the animals in Franklin Park Zoo and Stone Zoo, is trying to stop the extinction of all the frog species on earth. He does his field work in Panama, researching the spread of the Chytrid Fungus, treatments for it, and perfecting captive husbandry of frogs and other amphibians, so that there will be a population to reintroduce when they get on top of the disease.

He is a finalist in a contest to win a $25,000 grant to support the project. It's success could literally mean saving multiple species of amphibian from disappearing forever. Please go over to this page, register and vote for proposal 2. It takes just a minute or so, doesn't cost you anything, and could be the only thing you do today to prevent the extinction of a species.



The Last Frogs on Earth thank you!

I finally went to a work related but non-work social event, and I'm still all excited about it, though that could be all the damn soda I drank during the night.

We had our AAZK trivia night!* ( Read more... )

Photos by cottonmanifesto. Momentarily captured in a hat, to be shown to the members of the Urban Nature Walk group.

Urban species #296: Northern dusky salamander Desmognathus fuscus

Bullfrogs not withstanding, amphibians are not commonly found in urban areas. The reason is their semi-aquatic habits, and their permeable skin. Water and gases can pass through an amphibian's skin, and so if the water or air are polluted, that pollution can enter the animal's bloodstream. Most urban water contains too many metals and other contaminants to support amphibian life. Even those amphibians that live on land lay their eggs in water, or in moist earth, exposing their developing young to environmental poisons. While permeable skin may seem like a complete liability, it has its advantages. Because oxygen and carbon dioxide can pass directly through an amphibian's skin, they have reduced the need for lungs. In a few species, such as the northern dusky salamander, and the exceedingly common redback salamander, the lungs have completely disappeared. The lungless condition is thought to have evolved to reduce buoyancy in stream-dwelling salamanders, and has persisted in several descendant species that live in other habitats.

The small colony of northern dusky salamanders I discovered lives on the margin of Ward's pond in Olmsted Park. Jamaica pond is uphill and upstream from Ward's pond, and water from Jamaica pond seeps through the soil between the ponds. This water, originating in a natural spring, is relatively clean, and very cold. Forested groundwater seeps are the preferred habitat of this species, and it is through the fortuitous creation of Olmsted Park that this population of salamanders survives in the city. They hide under fallen wood, feeding on small invertebrates, writhing when disturbed, with the help of a keeled tail, even taking to the water when pressed. They don't generally enter the pond itself, where they would be quickly preyed upon by turtles and fish.