Harmless Snakes, Duvernoy’s Glands, and Venom Glands

June 10, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

Naturalists with a deep interest in reptiles like to dig into issues and discover all the complexity. However, the average person might like a more easily digestible answer. “Is it venomous or not?” When they ask it, most folks are asking, “If I were bitten by this snake, would I have medically serious consequences?” The answer might not be as simple as we would like. I want to take a look at what happens when a gartersnake or hog-nosed snake bite causes symptoms of mild envenomation.

*A red-sided gartersnake seen in Minnesota (photo: Meghan Cassidy)*

“A gartersnake?” you say. “What could be more harmless than a gartersnake?” Generally speaking, I agree, and so do untold numbers of kids who catch them out in a meadow or woodland edge as they learn about the natural world. I would not worry about my granddaughter or anyone else’s kid picking up a gartersnake (assuming it really is identified correctly). But are they venomous?

First, we should quickly review some information about the snakes everyone agrees are venomous. In the United States, that includes the pit-vipers (rattlesnakes, copperheads, and cottonmouths) and the coralsnakes. These snakes have fangs in the front of their mouths, and venom glands that connect with those fangs so that the snake can inject venom during a bite.

All of this came about in their evolution as a tool for subduing what they eat. A rattlesnake bites a rat and releases it. Letting go minimizes the counterattack from the rat, and the venom quickly subdues and kills the rat so that it cannot get far away. It’s easy to track it down and eat it. A coralsnake bites a small ratsnake, and its neurotoxic venom induces paralysis, making it easier prey for the coral snake.

But when threatened or attacked, biting the attacker is a natural response by the snake, and the venom of pit-vipers and coralsnakes makes that bite a more potent weapon. And so that is a second evolutionary advantage of having powerful venom and the glands and fangs to deliver it.

These are front-fanged snakes, but there are some species with enlarged teeth toward the back of the mouth and venom with some degree of toxicity. In the U.S., some of these are small snakes that pose no risk to humans, such as black-headed snakes (genus Tantilla) and night snakes (genus Hypsiglena). The hog-nosed snakes (genus Heterodon) are larger but almost always unwilling to bite. Because it is nonaggressive, the western hog-nosed snake is a very popular pet, despite being rear-fanged and having what is regarded as mild venom.

Other snakes followed different evolutionary paths for food-getting. Some, like the kingsnakes and ratsnakes (as well as boas and pythons), became constrictors. These muscular snakes bite a prey animal and very quickly wrap several coils around the animal’s body. This immobilizes the prey to keep it from getting away or counterattacking, and it quickly causes circulatory and respiratory arrest. With strong constrictors, the pressure on the prey’s body prevents the blood from circulating, which leads to a quicker death than simply being unable to breathe. Snake species that are good at constriction usually have little need for venom – but if you look hard there are exceptions to almost every rule (find some of them here).

Because snakes have no limbs or claws to tear prey apart, and mouths and teeth designed for holding on rather than for cutting and tearing, you would think that all of them need some kind of advantage like venom or constriction. However, there are snakes whose approach to hunting seems to be to chase it down and simply swallow it, while maybe using a loop of the body to hold the prey animal still. Examples would include coachwhips or the gartersnakes and watersnakes and some others in the U.S.

But sometimes it is not as simple as that. Many of our “harmless” snakes have a gland running under the upper lip from the eye back to the corner of the mouth which secretes toxins. It is called Duvernoy’s gland, and herpetologists consider it to be homologous to the venom glands of pit-vipers and the coralsnake. That is, they think it has a similar evolutionary origin to venom glands. However, Duvernoy’s gland does not store a volume of venom, nor does it empty through a duct associated with fangs or enlarged teeth.

Venom researcher Bryan Grieg Fry argues that the Duvernoy’s secretions are used to help subdue prey and because they are produced in a specialized oral gland, the right name for the secretions is “venom” and the correct name for the gland ought to be “venom gland.” Sometimes what is correct biologically may be confusing to the public.

Here’s what I mean: The average person divides snakes into a simple binary, venomous or non-venomous. When we start talking about gartersnakes with venom glands, there is going to be a lot of “wait a minute!” We have to go back and try to insert some shades of gray in those black and white distinctions between venomous and non-venomous. And some might think it’s only an academic point, that it doesn’t really matter because whatever the gartersnakes might secrete, it must be mild because people handle these snakes and are sometimes bitten, almost always with no ill effect. And the hog-nosed snakes bluff in a threatening way, but they don’t bite people. So Duvernoy’s glands or venom glands or whatever we call them are only academic details, right?

Duvernoy’s gland secretions occasionally have real impacts on human handlers. There is a report from 1985 of a 13-year-old child who developed swelling and bruising of the bitten hand after a “prolonged” bite from an eastern gartersnake (Thamnophis s. sirtalis). I suppose the bite was prolonged because the child was not afraid and was either curious or afraid of harming the snake. In any case, vital signs and laboratory tests were normal and the child quickly recovered. A 1994 report described a person bitten by a wandering gartersnake (Thamnophis elegans vagrans) who developed local swelling, bruising, and small blisters containing blood or serous fluid. Systemic signs and symptoms did not develop, that is, the symptoms were confined to the area near the bite.

*Red-sided gartersnake (photo: Meghan Cassidy)*

In 2009, a report described a person bitten while feeding their pet western hog-nosed snake (Heterodon nasicus). Such snakes often have a strong feeding response and will try to chew and swallow a hand if it is holding the prey item. The snake held on to the person’s arm for several minutes, with resulting swelling, bruising, swollen lymph nodes, “cutaneous signs suggestive of mild cellulitis and blister formation.” The patient recovered completely after about five months. Reviewing other such bites, the authors concluded that western hog-nosed snakes should be considered capable of inflicting medically significant bites but should not be considered dangerous.

A later (2019) report described another feeding bite from a western hog-nosed snake. A 20-year-old female was bitten, “causing local symptoms and thrombocytopenia.” On the third day after the bite, the patient came in with pain, swelling, and blisters. She had a very low platelet count, that is, thrombocytopenia. The symptoms in the bite area peaked on the seventh day after being bitten, and those symptoms as well as the platelet count improved within four months after the bite. This was the first reported case of hematologic toxicity (systemic effects on the blood) from a North American colubrid snake. (A technical note: in recent years, hog-nosed snakes have been moved from Colubridae to a separate family of rear-fanged snakes, Dipsadidae.) Again, this is a species that may bite in a feeding context but almost never bites in an encounter in the wild.

A report from 2026 described a survey disseminated via personal contacts and social media asking about bites by the western hog-nosed snake. Of the 91 replies, 63 were able to be used. All 63 incidents involved captive pet snakes, with bites occurring during handling or feeding. When bites were extended or involved chewing, there was a greater chance of symptoms. The authors ranked the symptoms according to the percent of respondents who said they experienced them. People reported swelling in 79% of cases. Decreasing percentages of people reported pain, itching, stiffness, red and discolored skin, bleeding, burning sensation, numbness, and then a few cases of nausea, weakness, blistering, and scabbing. Seven respondents in this study sought medical treatment and reportedly were, in some cases, given antihistamines or steroids. (Snake bite experts remind us that symptoms of snake envenomation are not allergy-based, and so antihistamines like Benadryl are not helpful.) Most symptoms resolved within approximately a week, but two cases took longer.

*The black and yellow ventral scales of a western hog-nosed snake*

What do we make of all this, apart from the conclusion that there is wonderful, fascinating complexity in the natural world? On a practical level, there are a couple of reasons to share this information. One is to help the public with those shades of gray between “venomous” and “non-venomous,” and the other is to suggest a little bit of caution to those who keep hog-nosed snakes as pets.

Without some introduction to this part of snake biology, the average person might hear about some of our “harmless” snakes having venom and (1) have their prejudices confirmed – “See, I told you that there’s no good snakes” – or (2) react to snakes with an even greater degree of unnecessary fear. Reports of medical symptoms from bites of gartersnakes are rare, mild, and temporary. Most of the rear-fanged snakes in the U.S. (nightsnakes, ring-necked snakes, black-headed snakes, etc.) are very small, making bites from them improbable. And I’m not aware of any wild hog-nosed snake ever biting someone when encountered in the wild. These snakes do deserve to be called harmless.

That brings us to the issue of keeping western hog-nosed snakes as pets. I have kept them and have had them try to chow down on my finger while feeding them. They are completely inoffensive but easily mistaken at feeding time. If I currently had one, I would not use it in educational presentations in which people are allowed to touch the snake. And I would not offer food by hand, nor would I allow the snake to chew on me, should a bite occur. Like many other snakes, they are harmless depending on what we do with them.

Imagination and Nature

May 30, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

A letter to nature kids

It’s surely unnecessary for me to tell kids about pretending. However, I’ve written one of the “Letters to Nature Kids” to talk about using imagination in nature. How often do kids make use of nature as a setting for pretend play and imaginary stories? I guess any kids who spend much free time in nature bring their imaginations to their time in nature, but I wanted to encourage such pretending and imagining.

I also wanted to include a little about the use of imagery as a coping strategy. It’s a particular use of imagination that can reduce anxiety and stress or help someone become more calm. Or simply provide a very pleasant few minutes of imagined time in nature.

The letters to nature kids are written for older kids, teens, or anyone who is a bit of a “nature kid,” regardless of age. They are archived on the letters to you page of this website.

Your Invitation to the Wild Lives of Texas Reptiles and Amphibians

May 26, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

If you know me, or if you have looked around at the website at my books or found the herpetology sub-page, you know that reptiles and amphibians are a nearly lifelong passion for me. And I am in the middle of a series of talks I’m offering on this subject. This Thursday, May 28, is the next one, covering the American alligator and the turtles of North Texas. The talks are free and offered via Zoom; you can register here.

*American alligator seen at Aransas National Wildlife Refuge*

These presentations came about after I taught incoming groups of Master Naturalists for a number of years and I always wished I had just a little more time to cover more of the story of these remarkable animals. The participants often seemed to feel the same way, and so I put this series together. The topics are:

Part One: Getting Started (past session)

We will discuss what these animals are and introduce the topic of herpetology and things like scientific names and community science. We will also try to answer the question, “what good are they?” We’ll also cover some essential skills in the field, skills that can help participants find the animals safely. There are photos of a poison ivy, bull nettle, and our local venomous snakes.

Part Two: Amphibians (past session)

We’ll start with what makes a species an amphibian, and the frogs, toads, and salamanders that represent this group in the U.S. The presentation offers photos of most of the species encountered in North Texas along with the calls of frogs and toads. We will talk about amphibian extinctions and the threats to their survival.

Part Three: Crocodilians and Turtles – this week

These are the oldest reptiles in terms of evolution and paleontology. We will talk about our American alligator and its adaptation for aquatic life and get into the strange but successful structure of turtles and their shells. There are plenty of photos of most of our North Texas turtle species. We will discuss turtle conservation issues.

Part Four: Lizards and Snakes (two hours)

We will talk about the natural history of these species (why do some lizards’ tails break off, and how do snakes move and swallow big food items?). Photos will illustrate representative species from each family, including each of our venomous snakes. We also will discuss venomous snake bite. This presentation will be longer than the others.

Part Five: Herp Conservation Challenges

These animals are facing severe conservation challenges. We will talk about how conservation scientists keep track of various species, how federal and Texas state laws and policies may help protect them, and we’ll take a good look at several representative Texas species. We will also take a look at how we, as citizens and naturalists, can help.

Our local Master Naturalist chapter considers these sessions to be advanced training, and perhaps other chapters will as well. If you have some familiarity with reptiles and amphibians and wonder if the sessions will offer some depth, I believe that they do. On the other hand, if you are concerned that they will be too technical, I think that the answer is no.

If you are not on Facebook (the link above is to a Facebook page) and you want to attend, please send an email to events@friendsofscnp.org.

The City Nature Challenge Party

April 26, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

(Reprinted, with light edits, from my post at the Friends of Sheri Capehart Nature Preserve blog)

*A cricket frog previously seen at the preserve*

Around Earth Day, iNaturalist throws a party, and the dancing and eating and games all take place in nature. The party is called “City Nature Challenge,” a four-day global bioblitz in which the partygoers look around at all the life that surrounds us and take photos or recordings so that everyone can see all the riches, the birds, fish, insects, trees and grass, all the life that our planet offers.

In our little corner of southwest Arlington, we joined the party at Sheri Capehart Nature Preserve. I took a walk Friday morning to see if the trails were too muddy and was grateful that they were drying from recent rain. Along the way, I photographed about 25 things in the woods and by the pond. There was snakeherb, a delightful perennial herb with bell-shaped lavender or purple flowers. Reportedly an early Texas naturalist wrote that indigenous people used it for treatment of snake bite.

We needed the trails to be walkable for the party that evening, celebrating frog calls of north Texas. A wonderful group of folks gathered at 8:00pm and I played recordings of our toads, treefrogs, true frogs, and cricket frogs. And the Blanchard’s cricket frogs at the south pond joined in, giving us a nice chorus of “grick-grick-grick” multiplied by a good number of frogs. That resulted in a call index of 3, using the system developed for rating the intensity of frog symphonies and song cycles. So many frogs calling that their voices, for a little while, were continuous and overlapping.

As the light faded and the moon shone in the darkness, we walked the trails to the big pond. Right away we found a striped bark scorpion which glowed a ghostly blue under Glen’s black light. Then as soon as we got to the water’s edge, we noticed a mammalian partygoer swimming in the pond, reaching the surface and then disappearing, and then briefly heading for shore until she or he noticed all the flashlights and humans watching. Someone noticed the animal apparently had a flattened tail, and so we concluded (without a photo) that it had been a beaver.

As we continued to explore the shoreline, the cricket frogs continued their chorus. These are little frogs – one could sit on your thumbnail – with big voices. So big that I needed to verify for our folks that these loud frogs were indeed cricket frogs. What sounds in the distance like a click, maybe two pebbles knocked together, up close is a “grick!” with a slightly different texture and tone.

And all of that energy coming from a little male pulsing that vocal sac under the chin over and over again to signal his presence to a female. If she comes to him, he will fertilize the eggs she lays in shallow water to start the next generation. Their lifespan is a few months to a year or so, and they are constantly being picked off by a number of predators, and so these choruses are critical to their survival.

In the midst of all those cricket frogs calling, we began noticing spiders at the water’s edge, like the delicate, long-legged ones called long-jawed orb weavers. They’re harmless to us, and those long jaws that grab the spider’s prey are not a threat to us. Their role is to weave webs near the water so as to trap small insects found there.

Another was a spider I thought I recognized from hanging out with spider expert Meghan Cassidy. One of the spiders she photographed and we used in the Mindfulness in Texas Nature book was a small nursery web spider so obscure that it’s known only by the scientific name Pisaurina dubia. Yet another of the small and inoffensive spiders of the preserve.

But the next one was more substantial (yet still harmless to us). At the base of some cattails was a six-spotted fishing spider, resting on the water with legs spread across two or three inches. They are powerful predators that can catch and eat insects, small tadpoles and frogs, and little fish.

The best, or most noteworthy, of these arachnids was caught by Edgar on the last part of the walk. He caught this little beast as it ambled along the trail and brought it for us to try to identify. I was amazed to find that it was a small solifuge, the first that I’ve seen at the preserve.

*A solifuge I photographed years ago in South Texas*

I’ve seen them in West Texas though, and they are fast and have very powerful jaws. Reassuringly, they have no venom, just those big mandibles – two on top and two beneath. They can bite and chew up invertebrates and even small vertebrates. Solifugids have a variety of common names, like wind scorpion or sun spider, though they are neither scorpions nor spiders. They have their own group (their own order) within the class Arachnida.

This little arachnid, who shone blue under a UV light, managed to jump out of the tub Edgar had him in and quickly run under some grasses so that we could not find him or her again.

The next morning, the party continued although I was on my own. Starting at 9:00am I visited the pollinator meadow briefly and then walked up to the bluff, past dozens of blooming spiderworts and whitemouth dayflowers. This is a beautiful time of year, and soon the spotted beebalm should have their time.

I added 61 observations during my two days at the party (just a few of which you can see below). And the party continues through Monday, and so I hope you get all dressed up and have a dance and some party snacks (all this figuratively) out in some beautiful nature spot. Unless you have plans somewhere else, Sheri Capehart Nature Preserve would be a wonderful place to celebrate.

At the Grasslands, With Bug Nerds

April 21, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

(I’ve been preoccupied with writing a series of articles about “nature kids” for Green Source Texas, and if you’d like to read the first one, it is available here. And so I thought I would re-post something from July of 2019. I was getting to know Meghan Cassidy, a wonderful woman who – with her wife Carly – has become family to my wife and me. I remember this walk from nearly seven years ago well, including that rat snake that bit Meghan!)

I’m seeing more of the LBJ National Grasslands this summer than I have in a while, and it’s been wonderful. The rainfall over the past eight or nine months have resulted in a bonanza of plant life, which leads to a bonanza of bug life, and so on down the food chain. Yesterday, I visited again with a couple of “bug nerd” friends (shorthand for “people who know a lot about invertebrates and other stuff I don’t know”).

*Prairies and oak woodlands of the Western Cross Timbers*

Actually, Meghan and Paul are all-around fans of the entire natural world, which is just my kind of folks. We talked about the Post Oaks and Blackjack Oaks which are the signature trees for this ecoregion, and Little Bluestem grass and Partridge Pea and what the difference might be between Meadow Pink and Prairie Gentian, and bent over to look at a hundred different plants. Meghan suggested it would be fun to come back and try to inventory all the diversity of grasses and forbs in a one-meter space, which we all agreed would be a long list.

But just as I am first and foremost a “herp nerd,” these guys are “bug nerds” and more specifically, Meghan specializes in spiders. It’s an interesting and probably helpful collaboration, as I still have enough residual arachnophobia that I won’t handle spiders (though I can examine and photograph them with no problem). As the sun neared the horizon after 7:00pm, we started noticing lots of the orb-weaving spiders that cast their nets between branches and across the trail. I admire the concentric lines in their webs, but hate running into them.

Then, as we talked about the three-lobed leaves of Blackjack Oak with the little spine at the end of the lobes, I spotted a favorite amphibian, resting quietly on one of those Blackjack leaves and waiting for night to fall. It was a Gray Treefrog, currently showing the mottled green color that they can assume when they are not mottled shades of gray. There was no telling which species of Gray Treefrog we were looking at, as Hyla versicolor (sometimes called the “Eastern Gray Treefrog”) and Hyla chrysoscelis (Cope’s Gray Treefrog) are just about indistinguishable except by their calls and their DNA. H. versicolor has a second set of chromosomes, so that they have twice the number of chromosomes as Cope’s Gray Treefrog. Cope’s also has a more rasping and less musical trill than the Eastern Gray Treefrog.

*Little Bluestem in the lengthening shadows of evening*

I’ve noticed that I didn’t take photos of the spiders we saw, but I did take a couple of photos of grassland insects. One was a stick insect we came across, and the other was one of the thousands of grasshoppers (and a few katydids) that scattered as we passed through.

*Grasshopper, with an ant disappearing behind a leaf at lower left*

The grasslands were beautiful as sunset approached and a nearly full moon took its place in the sky. We were privileged to be able to visit this place.

*Sunset on the grasslands, near Alvord, TX*

But we weren’t done yet. Some evening road-cruising failed to turn up the usual Broad-banded Copperheads, but we were treated to a couple of Western Ratsnakes. These snakes are harmless – or let’s just say that they are “non-venomous.” Completely mild-mannered when left alone, they are pugnacious when picked up. I picked up each one so we could examine these beautiful animals, and Meghan wanted to interact with them, too. Knowing they could not hurt her in any important way, she said that she was unconcerned about being bitten. The second one was more than willing to put that to the test, and promptly bit her. After we admired and then released the snake, we looked at the pattern of little punctures on her arm, and she was delighted to see how these snakes have two rows of palatine teeth (fixed to bones in the area where the palate would be in the upper part of the mouth) between the usual rows of maxillary teeth. Four rows of teeth! And being able to discuss and enjoy that little bit of natural history based on the bleeding evidence of your arm, that’s the sign of a real naturalist!

There’s No AI Here

April 20, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

(And there never will be)

I would like anyone reading what I write to know this: Artificial Intelligence has no place in this blog or any of my other writings; it’s a matter of integrity. By that I mean the integrity of our relationship, between writer and reader – what I offer you is real, and really comes from me, for better or worse.

In none of my books did AI play a role, in drafts or in final form. And when I write something for Green Source Texas, what I send to the editor is from my notes and my brain with no AI anywhere in the process.

I’m putting this out there because of the extent to which social media and corporations are coming to depend on this stuff, and I think it’s fundamentally dishonest. Perhaps there is a role for AI in some technical endeavors, but not here.

Enough

April 5, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / 2 Comments

For many indigenous people in the northeast part of North America, Windigo is a monster whose greed and hunger are completely insatiable. A human might become a Windigo when lost, starving and freezing. Or when the response to starvation is cannibalism. Robin Wall Kimmerer writes very eloquently about it: “The more a Windigo eats, the more ravenous it becomes. It shrieks with its craving, its mind a torture of unmet want” (Braiding Sweetgrass, p. 305).

She also finds the lesson, the cultural meaning behind it: “Born of our fears and our failings, Windigo is the name for that within us which cares more for its own survival than for anything else.”

The answer to the danger from Windigo is to take care of each other and to tame our greed, to know when we have enough. We look around us and see a world where too often greed is the operating principle. We are told from some quarters that taking care of each other is weakness and empathy is a sinful flaw. And yet today is the Christian celebration of the resurrection of one who taught the very opposite. One who would tell us to sell what we have and give it to the poor. That theme, taking care of each other and sharing what we have, is taught as wisdom in places all over the world.

And yet we live in a system that celebrates those who accumulate riches and allows a tiny fraction of us to hold unimaginable wealth while most of us struggle and some of us starve. If only there was a way to help everyone become satisfied, to say “enough.” I wish all of us had a sense of when there is enough and could stop with our acquisitiveness when we reach that point.

That would mean not creating that never ending sense of want, making us crave more no matter how much we have, making ourselves a Windigo that cannot be satisfied. We are capable of knowing when we have enough, knowing how to share when there is plenty. We need stories about mutual flourishing and care, about gratitude for abundance and banding together to get through hard times. We need teachers and role models who can say, “enough.”

A short, readable book about living in this way, from one of the great teachers, is The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer. I wish I could give a copy to everyone who hasn’t read it. Please get it and share it. It’s $20 from the publisher, or only about $10-11 at Amazon if you must.

A Letter About Attention and Mindfulness

March 25, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

The latest of the “Letters to Nature Kids” is about how I like to use my attention when taking a walk in nature. It describes noticing your breathing and then imagining that your attention is like a light that you can turn toward one thing and another.

I wrote, “When you are outside, try imagining that your attention is a light that you can shine on one thing or another. Put the light on a tree and keep it there for a count of five (or more). Then turn the light toward something nearby and count how long you can keep your attention there.”

This is borrowed from mindfulness, though I’m not trying to teach meditation in this letter. I just want to share some ways to really notice and enjoy things and help strengthen the ability to pay attention.

In the letter, I wrote, “You start narrowing your attention – your flashlight – to a particular flower that has something in it. The flashlight beam gets so narrow that you have to get down near the flower to focus attention that much. The insect is a tiny baby form of a katydid, and look at those black-and-white antennae! Keep the focused light of your attention there a little longer.” The point is to be able to direct our attention purposefully and stay with something long enough to really explore it, like the colors and structure of that primrose flower.

If you know someone who might be interested in this, please share it. Letters to Nature Kids is always a free download (there’s a donation button in the right column of the website for anyone who feels inclined). You can browse all those 25+ letters on the Letters to You page.

Journal: Canyon Ridge

March 18, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

18 March 2026 – Fort Worth Nature Center & Refuge 12:10-2:16pm

Along the Canyon Ridge Trail, Lone Point and the surrounding area is a favorite. The rocky remains of the old CCC structure are atop the ridge with limestone, yucca, and live oak. Today I started my walk from below the ridge, near the lakeshore, where a pair of tufted titmice were hopping around in understory and low tree branches.

On the way up to the ridge, there were lots of bird calls in the woodland. Merlin identified the calls of red-shouldered hawk, tufted titmouse, white-eyed vireo, Carolina wren, red-bellied woodpecker, and northern cardinal. Once I reached the ridge, there was also blue jay, red-winged blackbird, and ruby-crowned kinglet.

Right away I saw a young Texas spiny lizard who ducked under the old concrete picnic table. I would see the same lizard on my way out, and a couple of others elsewhere on the ridge. Just one more way in which spring seems already to be going strong.

The top of the ridge is a limestone-based savanna with live oak, pale leaf yucca, and prickly pear. Butterflies were active, including sulphurs, goatweed leafwings, and a little crescent visiting what appeared to be crow poison beginning to flower.

There are not a lot of flowers yet, but a small blue flower caught my eye along the trail. It was meadow flax, according to iNaturalist, an annual with either white or blue flowers. It’s new to me, but with my limited knowledge that’s not saying much.

Back at the Lone Point structure, I sat for a while and noticed that Texas spiny lizard I had seen earlier. She or he was back at the top of the toppled stone picnic table, basking and reminding me just a little bit of the collared lizards I’ve seen playing king-of-the-hill on boulders at Palo Duro Canyon. Very impressive, little lizard – and thanks for sharing a bit of your afternoon with me.

Journal: Wind and Sky

March 16, 2026June 3, 2026 / Michael Smith / Leave a comment

15 March 2026 – Sheri Capehart Nature Preserve 1:55-3:10pm.

A quick walk on a windy day, as the mid-80s warmth prepared to tumble back into winter for brief reminder that winter has a few more things to say. It was constantly breezy, and then the wind would gust and send the crowns of trees into a spasm of bend-and-rebound. Up close, the upper trunks and branches moved and yet were rigid, a contest between strength and pliability. From further away, the crowns of trees seemed to dance and bow to each other.

Once or twice, strength and rigidity failed and branches snapped or trunks fractured. I did not witness this and did not want to, especially not while standing below the tree. I kept an eye out for crowns that had not sprouted leaves, trees that might be dead or weakened, without the flexibility to remain standing.

At the bluff, I lay back and looked at the blue sky whose currents above me were invisible. When we cannot see the torrents of wind or the languid movement of air on a calm day, we may forget that the atmosphere above is like the water below us. It may slide overhead like a big, lazy river or it may rush along like a mountain stream, shoving and rearranging whatever it touches. As I lay there, streaks of wispy cloud were blown in from the west, looking like fingers reaching toward us. Soon the whole hand was above us, and so I imagined the upper winds were speeding along like those at ground level.

As I walked down the south face of the hill I thought about how little activity I had seen. Even the dragonflies’ flight was no match for this wind, and the couple of birds I saw in flight were really struggling. When the wind is blowing like this, the butterflies are grounded. Even the honeybees barely ventured out of their tree.

Wind dance

For a human, it was a good time to take a walk and feel the power of the air when it is really moving. In some places those wind currents are causing trouble and damage to other people, and I wish that was not happening. Where I walked, it was no more than what the woodlands are adapted to (mostly) withstand every spring.

Our Lives in Nature

How nature supports, informs, and inspires our lives