I’m in a rut and I know it – there’s not a lot I can do about it, but there’s content at least, by a real human being too. Soon enough, these subjects won’t be visible for a while. I think.
First though, we revisit the end of month abstract – one of them, anyway. On the night that a persistent mist hung in the air, making the headlamp appear to be shining through a mini snowstorm, I caught some distinct bright spots on the yard and went in for the photo, so the overall frame looked like this:
This is a fallen leaf of the American tulip tree (Liriodendron tulipifera) in the back yard, the underside catching the mist but also repelling it somewhat so the water stayed in tight droplets, and from a short distance, these water drops set the leaf glowing in the headlamp. Once back inside and unloading the memory card, I liked the effect and the detail and did a tight crop of a section at lower center. Then I wondered if I could do it better by going in closer, and so went back outside to tackle the leaf again. Except, closer did not actually help it:
Not bad, but being closer meant the softboxed flash produced a different light effect from the drops, and I liked the original (shot at a greater distance) better – the drops were better defined. It’s funny how the change in lighting worked.
Okay, now back into the rut, since while I was out there, I was also doing still more photos of the Carolina anoles (Anolis carolinensis,) partially because they had re-emerged to sleep on the branches again with the temporary rise in overnight temperatures, but mostly because the mist added a lot to them. Soon enough they’ll be in for the winter, or at least only peeking out when the sun brings the temperature back into an acceptable range, and to everyone only a little further north than this, the anoles have long since disappeared anyway. Plus, these are absolutely fabuloso pics, so who am I to deprive the public of such joy?
While nearly all that I saw were juveniles, one was a distinct large adult, clinging almost vertically to a branch.
Actually, this wasn’t during the mist, but the night before after it had stopped raining. Those forelegs are great, though, clutching the branch as if the anole is scared of heights. Don’t look down, little lizard…
I waited patiently, and eventually the anole closed its eyes again.
The raindrops stand out much better from this angle, but now it looks like the anole is praying. Good luck with that.
Okay, now we’re onto the misty night.
These two were much smaller, and had chosen a hairy-stem spiderwort (Tradescantia hirsuticaulis) to bunk upon. Which is kind of funny, really, since they were a few meters at most from one of the Japanese maples, the one that had hosted up to six anoles in a night and, by virtue of being taller with more leaves to camouflage among, a much better choice to sleep on. Were these two among the six (or more) that had used that tree? Seems reasonably likely, given the distance and the short range that the anoles seem to prowl during the day. Reptile brains are not terribly advanced and it’s possible they retain no memory of where they slept several days or weeks earlier – they just grab a spot convenient to where they are when the sun’s going down, and it’s only because they haven’t wandered far that they choose the same tree.
Or maybe that’s giving them too little credit. On that same tree, there were a few leaves stitched together by a spider, potentially for a nursery, and one anole could be found sleeping in that spot for over a week:
This pic is about six weeks old – I hadn’t used it then because I had been avoiding too many anole posts even then – but an anole of the same size and appearance was in this spot repeatedly, and I have to assume it was the same one. So perhaps they have a better memory than I supposed.
Back to the misty night again. This one was much smaller and, yes, on that same Japanese maple, but the only one, and the only one I’d seen there for several days:
I happened to like this perspective best, and the anole was cooperative enough to have chosen a leaf closer to eye-level (for me, anyway) so I didn’t have to expend a lot of effort to get it.
And then, we return to the first anole seen, the scared devout one – or at least, I think it’s the same one, since again, it was in roughly the same spot on the same bamboo plant, and the same size. But more drops now.
I mean, seriously, I have plenty of wet lizard shots, but do you really think I could pass this one up? Like, look at those drops on the toes! Okay then. I did at least space these out to the next month, even when I could have driven the uploads number higher for October so, you know, sacrifices.
[Speaking of that, we’re currently running third in the number of uploads per year, since the beginning of the blog, and we still have not-quite two months to go. Probably not going to set a record this year, since this would require at least 135 more uploads and that’s pushing it for the winter months, but second place is within reach.]
[Well, 134…]
The warmth and the moisture had also brought out a few different frog species, among them this spring peeper (Pseudacris crucifer,) who purposefully shifted position a couple of times just as I was getting focus pinned down, ruining my composition, until it suddenly turned and faced directly into the camera in a rather accusatory way. No water droplets on this one; their skin distributes the moisture because they like looking shiny. Okay, I don’t really know what the benefit is, except it might help them cling to surfaces without the claws that the anoles have, or it might be an aid to skin respiration – seriously, don’t ask me. As I’ve said before, I just take picchers – an awful lot of the same damn subjects, over and over again, but you stick with what you can handle. It’s cozy and warm in this rut.