October Wildlife

October began with me running over a rattler just before sunrise. When I heard the rattle under me I just kept going until it was clearly behind me. When I looked back, he was sitting in cobra pose in the middle of the narrow path. Pretty pissed off, after 4 paws (Chaco's) and 2 white running shoes had gone right over him, and now 2 dogs were barking at him. He was still rattling indignantly under a creosote bush when we returned 10 min later. After that, the first of October was quiet and peaceful except for clouds of pesky mosquitoes.

But this evening around 10 pm, when I checked our patio lights for moths, Chaco started growling. One of the largest Arizona Hairy Scorpions I've seen was just about standing on her head in front of his nose, threatening him with the full length of her upright stinger. He kept a polite distance. I wasn't quite as good, trying to get my finger into a photo for scale. Randy watched from the kitchen window and asked if I wanted to pet the scorp. She surprised me with her very sudden, very speedy retreat to the safety of my Jalapeño pepper pots (video on flickr).

In the beam of my flashlight I realized how the AZ Hairy got its name: on stinger, claws and body, hairs glistened in the side-light.

Looking up, I discovered a very big, and completely unblemished Black Witch on the beam above me. This one was certainly hatched here in Arizona. Travelers from Mexico look much more disheveled.

The patience of snakes

 It's snake weather again. Each year, our rattlers show several bursts of activity. One is beginning now at the end of the monsoon season after a few good soaking rains. Diamond Backs even have a second mating season in fall. So every evening Frodo, our snake barker, announces his sightings on and around the patio.

Yesterday I heard a loud buzz when the dogs were running up to get their dinner. A big Diamond Back was curled up in their path, looking somewhat annoyed, but sat quietly while the dogs were being fed 10 feet away and then let into the house. He then moved on, too. Go, get those packrats!

This morning we walked into the state land right next to our place, happy that for once we heard no 'puff puff puff' noise from the guns of dove hunters. But we aren't able to pay enough attention to two things at once. On the way back I nearly stepped on a curled-up Sidewinder with Randy's tracks firmly imprinted on both sides and Bilbo's nearly touching the snake's body. That had been very close.

Temperatures in that sunny spot were approaching the nineties by then. Nevertheless, the snake was tightly curled up, snuggled in and keeping a low profile as only Sidewinders do. I thought that he'd soon be too warm, so he'd probably be close to moving on. I had not seen the 'side-winding' motion and was determined to make him demonstrate it. Camera in one hand and a thin, dry creosote branch in the other, I tried. Gently. No reaction.

A little more forceful. He acknowledged me with a flick of his tongue. I pushed the stick under him. He turned out to be much easier to flip than a pancake. I unraveled his coil, admired the small, perfect rattle, he just gave me a look.

I felt more and more guilty about disturbing his peace. I moved him back to his favorite spot, tucked him back in and rearranged his coils. Not quite right, he sighed and perfected it himself.

I apologized for disturbing him so rudely. I still haven't seen a Sidewinder side-wind. He dozed off for another hour or so.
This blog has links to 2 videos on flickr. Please click on the orange highlights in the text to see them. And trust me, while clumsy, I was gentle.