Going out early this morning (really early, last-night kind of early,) I found that the Magic Bucket of Variety, AKA my outdoor wastebasket, had lured in another friend.
Initially, I confidently proclaimed this a brown snake, but several of the identifying characteristics aren’t really there. Eventually (while writing this post,) I found the rough earth snake (Haldea striatula,) which is a pretty close match, so we’re going with that.
Meanwhile, let me illustrate this for you. The Magic Bucket sits in a corner of the sunken stairwell to the outside door of Walkabout Studios, nestled in along the door and the brick wall, the bottom better than a meter below any level access, such as the top of the brick wall or the latticework forming the screening above it. The wall extends to just slightly above normal ground level, so easy enough access to and across that, but the corner where the Bucket sits is under an overhang that shields the windows of Walkabout Studios and the heat pump fans and condensers. Tucked in against the house, is what I’m saying, and not particularly inviting to any critters as far as I can tell. It would be easy enough, I suppose, for most of the captures to come under this overhang, sidle along the house wall and windows there, and cut through the latticework to drop into the bucket – I’m just at a loss as to why this happens so often (and the turtle would have had to tip its shell over nearly at a 45° angle to fit through the lattice.) Or are they coming along the top of the brick wall? Or both? And while I had a vague suspicion that they were drawn to the Bucket by the scent of the discarded cleaning materials within, the very reason I have an outdoor bucket to begin with, these scents are typically rubbing alcohol (which should evaporate in no time) and printing resin, with the occasional addition of acetone. I mean, are these really that attractive? To say nothing of the fact that nothing at all was in the Bucket when this guy appeared.
Typically, brown snakes have faint rows of spots flanking a paler spine, and some telltale dark patches just behind the skull, but the rough earth snake lacks spots or indeed most markings, though often having a paler band at the base of the skull, visible here. The bright yellow patches are simply pine pollen, since it’s that season.
I think this one confirmed it for me more than anything, since that pattern of darkness ahead of the eyes and pale rising cheek patches matches every photo at that link above. Which means this is another new species for me, so, cool! And it wasn’t the only one of the night/morning.
On occasion while down distributing corn at the pond edge for the, well, everythings, I’d see a small grey rodent scampering away, one time from practically right at my feet, and often right into the water and even around the base of the Haunted Tree, which now requires crossing a small patch of water to reach. This had me curious, since this isn’t typical mouse behavior, especially the water bit, so I’ve kept my eyes open for any glimpse. Then last night/this morning, while down at the edge just checking things out, I heard a faint plop right near my feet, very like the sound of a small frog leaping into the water, and on carefully checking things out, I caught the eye reflections. No camera in hand, so I remembered the location, backed away quietly while keeping the light trained on my find so I wouldn’t reveal my humanity (fat chance anyway,) and went back to get the camera. Incredibly, the rodent was still in the exact same position despite my trek of nearly a hundred meters, so I was able to get pics.
This matched what I’d been seeing before, insofar as it was usually fleeting glimpses, but size, shape, and coloration at least. I could only manage one slightly variable perspective, no less obscured than you see here, so distinctive ID will wait for another time. That said, the eye, ear, and body sizes, the coloration, and the nocturnal semi-aquatic habits, all seem to indicate that this is a marsh rice rat (Oryzomys palustris,) though that’s only a tentative shot at it right now. If so, this would be another new find, one that I’d never heard of.
All those branches are actually debris cut away from the edges of The Puddle and dumped into The Bay (don’t you love the geography of this place?) to potentially feed the beavers, and since I didn’t have anyplace else handy to dump it. I’ve since noticed that the minnows are delighted with this new thicket, and that’s potentially why the marsh rice rat (maybe) was in there. No way to indicate scale, so let’s say this was half again to twice the size of typical field and house mice, a small handful, but not as large as a vole and nowhere near as large as Norway or cotton rats – in other words, you wouldn’t confidently say either, “mouse,” or, “rat” when seeing one, falling somewhere between the two.
We’ll see if I can get further confirmation sometime later, though it might be hard, since identifying variations in the rodent family tend to be very subtle even with the ability to handle them, an option not likely to present itself. Of course, I could confidently proclaim this a marsh rice rat, and whose gonna know? I mean, I have <5 readers in the first place - how many of them are rodentologists?
Bulb (B). This term is a ludicrous holdover from a century or so ago, when a bulb was actually used, but it hasn’t been that way since the forties at least. Essentially, it’s full manual like above, but your only shutter option is the shutter stays open as long as you hold it open, by pressing the shutter release (not recommended) or using a remote release. Sometimes, this isn’t its own mode but rolled into the shutter speed options. Again, esoteric or experimental techniques lend themselves to Bulb mode the most – it works well for lightning at night, or manually-triggered flash in otherwise dark environments. And the reason that I don’t recommend using the on-camera shutter release is that you’re almost guaranteed to shake the camera doing this.
