Exploring the Western NY wilds: That’s not a copperhead

It’s not uncommon to hear tales of people claiming to have encountered water moccasins and copperheads in Allegany County.

In all cases, they are dead wrong in the identification of those snakes. Neither of those venomous serpents can be found here. There are no water moccasins north of Virginia and there are no copperheads in New York outside of the Catskills and points south.

What happens is this: Our resident northern water snakes are confused with water moccasins (also known as cottonmouths) while eastern milk snakes are misidentified as copperheads.

In a future column we’ll look at water snakes. This week we’ll look at milk snakes.

Milk snakes might have, at first glance, a copperhead-like appearance.

 

Copperheads have brown bands contrasting a lighter brown base. Adult milk snakes have brown blotches (versus bands) on a lighter base, but their base tends to be more steely grey. Young milk snakes will sport reddish-chestnut blotches on a brighter, silvery, almost white background. Also, the heads of copperheads are unmarked, while milk snakes sport blotches and a tell-tale “y” or “v” at the top of the neck.

What might also add to the confusion with copperheads is the aggressive behavior of milk snakes.

 

These snakes will coil and snap at you if you try to pick one up. If they do, fear not, they aren’t venomous. They also have a couple of other tricks to show their displeasure to us: They can secrete a rancid musk and they will also vibrate their tails on dried leaves to create a rattler-like sound effect. The aggressiveness of milk snakes makes them one of the least popular of the wild snakes among those who raise reptiles as pets.

 
Milk snakes are fairly common but rarely seen because they are nocturnal while also being excellent burrowers. You can find them under logs, rocks, and lumber. If you do see one slithering about during the day, it will likely be a smaller one (12” or less). August and September are the best months to see them as the young of the year are out exploring during the day and trying to stake out their own territories.

Healthy adults can be impressive specimens, as they can reach 2 to 3 feet in length. They get that large by feasting on mice, birds, and their own – they will eat snakes and they don’t care what species it is. Some studies have shown that as much as 25% of their diet can be snakes.

Milk snakes are constrictors. Rather than doing as most snakes do, that is, swallowing live, wriggling creatures which are probably uncomfortable to eat, they will wrap their bodies around their prey and suffocate them by doing so. Then, they will swallow the dead creature whole.

They are called milk snakes because a long held myth said that they frequented barns because they sucked cows’ teats at night when no one was looking. We all know now that’s silly – snakes don’t drink milk and they don’t have sucking mouth parts.

 

We do know that they thrive at farms by hiding in hay piles and under structures, where they can feast on the mice and rats that are common to feedlots.

If you see a milk snake, appreciate it. Don’t pick it up unless you like snake bites (which, again, are nonvenomous). And, whatever you do – don’t kill it. For some reason, too many people feel compelled to kill snakes, which is just plain wrong. That’s a subject for another column.

 

From the 30 March 2022 Wellsville Sun

 

Exploring the Western NY Wilds: A flower for all seasons

 

When coming out of Allegany County’s sometimes -depressing winters you might look for even the slightest signs of spring to get you through. You might keep your eyes to the skies for migrating birds or you’ll look to the ground for the first glimpse of plant life.

 

When it comes to the latter, one of the very first flowers to grace our presence every year is a plant that is otherwise taken for granted or looked at with disdain by gardeners as a weed – the purple dead nettle.

The purple dead nettle is not actually a nettle. It is a member of the mint family. It has the tell-tale characteristic of mints, which is a square stem. It lacks, though, the fragrance that most people expect from mints. It gets the name dead nettle because this mint has numerous small hairs like nettles, but, unlike nettles, they won’t stick in your skin and make you itch like a fiend – so, it was considered “dead” by early taxonomists.

 

The plant is incredibly common and can be found almost anywhere disturbed by mankind – fields, edges of parking lots, sidewalks, roadsides, lawns, and so on. It is a small plant, most often 2 to 3 inches off the ground and rarely reaching 8 inches in height. It is found in congested clumps, almost like ivies, with many plants in a very small area. The tiny tubular flowers, which look like minute snapdragons, are bright purple, maybe pink. The leaves are shaped like a heart or an arrowhead. The leaves start out green but can quickly become a dark red or deep purple in color and will stay that way for weeks or months. You may see them overtaking a wheat or hay field, making a sea of purple.

Purple dead nettles are unique in that they can have flowers over most of the year. In a mild winter you will see their flowers as early as the last week of February. Most years, though, you’ll start to see them the second week of March. Their greatest abundance will be in April and May. The flowers tend to disappear from the heat in July and August, but you will see them again in the fall right into November.

Because of their early blooms, they are absolutely critical to the well-being of bees and other pollinators that come out of their winter slumber on warm days. When no other flowers are available in March, the purple dead nettle gives them the nectar they need. Also, in April, the pollinating plants give bees pollen to help build up their nests.

Like most all mints, the purple dead nettle has value to people. While you probably wouldn’t make a tea out of it, its young tender leaves nicely augment salads and stir fries. The leaves also make a healthy addition to smoothies, adding a lot of powerful antioxidants to the mix.

While most people might look down upon this plant as a weed, you should welcome its presence in your backyard. Its cute little flowers are a welcome sight when the snow starts to melt and they keep the local bee populations healthy in the early spring – goodness knows they need it with all of the mass bee die-offs in recent years.

 

 

From the 23 March 2022 Wellsville Sun

Exploring the Western NY Wilds: The mourning cloak butterfly

 

When you go out and about in the local forests to enjoy some much-needed warmer days this month and next, you might encounter a surprising sight -- a mourning cloak butterfly.

 

This fair-sized butterfly (about the size of a monarch), always catches hikers off guard because butterflies are the insects least expected to be seen as we climb out of the cold of our long winter. After all, aren’t they insects of the summer months, appearing weeks after they entered the world as caterpillars?

 

Mourning cloaks are different. They actually hibernate and can survive our harshest of winters as adults, even when the temps drop below zero. Other species of Lepidoptera winter-over in cocoons or as eggs. To survive Jack Frost, mourning cloaks will search out sheds and brush piles, hide on the undersides of eaves, and go under loose bark on trees. These butterflies are so fond of cooler climes that you will rarely see them in July and August when they aestivate, which is a summer version of hibernation undertaken to ride out hot and dry spells.

 

 

Mourning cloaks get their name from their black wings which look like the clothes someone would wear in grief. From a distance, they do look plaintive, even totally black in flight. But, in closer inspection, you will see some stark beauty. The black wings have a tan-hued (sometimes yellowish) fringe. Just inside that fringe are six to eight blue dots per wing. The undersides of the wing look like weathered wood, giving the butterflies camouflage when their wings are closed. They are gorgeous butterflies no matter the season and especially so in early spring when the forests have yet to green out.

But, they sure don’t look pretty when they’re babies.

 

Their caterpillars are ugly little critters, about two-and-a-half inches long, a bluish black with a row of red spots on their back with countless branching spines sticking out of them. Their appearance screams “don’t touch!” And, don’t…the hairs on those branched spines are stingers and they don’t feel good at all.

 

Those caterpillars can be problematic at times, as they feast on the leaves of poplars, willows, and elms. When in good numbers, they used to defoliate trees.

I say “used to” because here in Western New York mourning cloaks are not as common as they once were because their preferred food isn’t either (which is no fault of these caterpillars). Elm trees once dominated the appetites of mourning cloaks, so much so they were known as “elm worms”. Elm are virtually nonexistent, wiped out by Dutch elm disease, which was a killing fungus allowed to flourish by bark beetles. You’d be hard pressed to find a healthy elm over 25 feet in height anywhere in Western New York, let alone saplings in any number.

When I was a kid, elms were still fairly common, but nothing in size like they used to be decades earlier. But, they still gave plenty of nourishment to mourning cloaks and that’s why I saw more of the critters when I was a kid. Back then, on any given spring day in the woods I’d see a few mourning cloaks. Now, I might see a few over the course of the whole spring.

They are a spectacle nonetheless, one to be admired when you are out exploring the wilds of Allegany County.

 

From the 16 March 2022 Wellsville Sun