In many parts of North America it’s rattlesnake season. And while they are most often found in deserts, scrubland, and plains, they do occupy a variety of habitats that also includes forests and swamps. Clearly they are adaptable.

Photo Credit – J.N. Stuart

Rattlesnakes have that signature rattle to warn people to stay away. They make the sound by shaking their tails which causes the hard scales inside the tip to bang together. Those scales are made out of keratin, the same thing as human nails and hair. And, the number of scales increases as the snake ages.

What’s especially interesting about a rattlesnake’s rattle is that it can vary the frequency of the sound to make it seem like the snake is closer than it really is. It does this by shaking it’s tail up to 90 times per second. One study revealed that the frequency changes when someone is about 13 feet away. The change fools the approaching person and helps the snake keep a safe perimeter around them. This amazing adaptation actually helps both the snake and people. The snake doesn’t get trampled and the person doesn’t get bitten. Personally, I appreciate the warning!

Frog and toad – I’m not talking about the famous early readers by Arnold Lobel. I’m talking about the actual amphibians now out of hibernation peeping, croaking, trilling, clicking, and chirping. We often use the terms frog and toad interchangeably. But while they may be of the same order, they belong to different families.

Photo Credit – Dave Huth

There are key differences between them, starting with skin. Frogs have smooth, shiny skin, while toads have skin that is bumpy and dry. Which leads to the fact that frogs are found in or near water (thus the shiny, moist skin) while toads spend more time on land and move further away from water sources. This also means that if you find a small hopping amphibian away from water, it’s likely a toad.

Still not sure? Take a look at the legs and body. Toads have shorter legs and tend to be a bit squat. They are not quite as proficient at hopping as their sleeker, long-legged cousins. Because of this toads often crawl instead of hop. And, toads have a rounder snout, while frogs’ snouts are more pointed.

No matter whether you spot or hear frogs or toads, be grateful. Neither can live in polluted habitats and don’t do well with environmental changes. So you know if you see or hear them, the ecosystem is a healthy one.

For a long time in my life I never really gave much thought to bees, other than to avoid being stung. Like most people, I learned in elementary school that they are pollinators, responsible for the reproduction of flowering plants. The takeaway was – no bees, no flowers. Beyond that, my education did nothing to teach me the true value and wonder of bees.

I’d always thought that a bee was just a bee. Yet there are more than 20,000 different species of bees in the world, with 4,000 of them living in the United States. They range in size from the smallest Perdita minima of the desert southwest, measuring less than .08 inches long, to the aptly named Wallace’s giant bee, which can grow to 1.5 inches long. Bees live on every continent in the world, except Antarctica, and they occupy a wide range of habitats – forests, deserts, mountains, grasslands, wetlands, and even on the tundra of Alaska. While we tend to think of bees as living with colonies in hives, some live in trees or underground, and some are solitary.

The most important thing to know about bees, though, is that they are a keystone species. It might be hard to imagine that such small animals have such a vital role on Earth. But together, trillions of bees have an enormous impact. Yes, without bees many plant species would cease to exist, and many ecosystems would collapse. Not only that, but bees are essential crop pollinators. In fact, one in three bites of food we eat is dependent on bees. So next time you sit down for a meal, thank a bee.

Of course, like so many species, bee populations are in decline. At home there are many things we can all do to support bees, including planting pollinator gardens with plants native to your area, eliminating the use of pesticides, making a bee bath, or opening a bee hotel. All of these are simple, yet important way to help protect the bees near you. For more information, visit the Bee Conservancy!

Image by xiSerge from Pixabay.

Echidnas are wonderfully odd creatures. So odd, in fact, it’s almost as if Mother Nature pieced them together using successful features of a variety of other animals. Echidnas, which live in desert, scrubland, and mountains forests of Australia and New Guinea, are known as spiny anteaters, even though they aren’t related to anteaters. While those aren’t technically spines, they are hairs, they are sharp enough to offer echidnas some protection. If an echidnas can’t get away from an approaching predator, they will curl up in a tiny ball to protect their soft underbelly, like a hedgehog or armadillo would, or they will dig themselves into the ground with only their spines showing.

Were you to look at an echidna’s tiny face, you’d see small, beady eyes (that don’t help echidnas see all that well) and an elongated nose called a beak. But that beak isn’t hard like the beak of a bird, though it is strong enough to be used to get into termite mounds, logs, and dirt looking for insects to eat. Like anteaters, echidnas are toothless. They use their 7-inch-long, sticky tongues to slurp up insects and worms. Then they use hard pads on the roof of their mouth and back of the tongue to grind the tasty treats into a paste. Then…gulp!

The oddness of these animals gets even odder if you consider that, like platypuses, they are monotremes – egg-laying mammals. But let’s back up a minute. A group of echidnas is called a parade. But, during breeding season, several males will waddle after a female, sometimes for days. This is called a train. At last, when she’s ready, she’ll stop. The males then dig a rut around her, then wrestle each other for the right to mate with her. The last one in the ring is the victor and will use his 4-headed member to mate with her first. You read that correctly. Twenty-two days after mating, the female lays one leathery, soft egg which she then pushes into her pouch. Ten days after that, the spineless, jellybean-sized baby hatches. It’s called a puggle!!! It stays there, nursing, for 7-8 weeks until it gets too prickly and is evicted.

While echidnas are mammals all unto their own, they must be doing something right – they’ve been around, and relatively unchanged, for roughly 50 million years.

To me it seems counterintuitive that a bird would live in an underground burrow. Even ground-nesting seems, well, dangerous. But plenty of birds do one or the other and thrive, despite the dangers. One of those is the burrowing owl.

Photo Credit – National Nuclear Security Administration

The western burrowing owl lives in short grass prairies and deserts across the western US (including Colorado!) and in Central America. These owls live in burrows abandoned by other animals like prairie dogs, tortoises, and ground squirrels. Though not particularly built for creating burrows themselves (though some pairs do!), the owls will maintain and enlarge burrows by digging with their beak and using their feet to move dirt.

Unlike other owl species, burrowing owls hunt during the day as well as at night. They hunt small mammals, insects, amphibians, and even other birds. Though they do fly when hunting, much of it is done by walking, hopping, or running on the ground and grasping prey with their talons. In addition, they will line the entrance to the burrow with dung. This attracts insects, creating an owl buffet. Genius! During brooding season these burrowers will stash food in burrow chambers to ensure they have enough food.

These birds are usually monogamous and live in colonies. A breeding pair works together to raise a clutch of up to a dozen. During incubation and in the first weeks after the eggs hatch, the female stays with the eggs or young, and the males brings food and defend the territory.

I’ve lived in Colorado for 30 years, near prime burrowing owl habitat, and I’ve never seen one. Now I’m on the lookout!