Salamander
(This 944th Buffalo Sunday News column was first published on April 26, 2009.)

Chuck
Rosenburg holds a yellow-spotted salamander
One
evening early this spring, I joined Chuck Rosenburg of the Department of
Environmental Conservation to look for salamanders in the Reinstein Woods
Nature Preserve in Cheektowaga.
I
go many years without seeing a single salamander, but these gentle and environmentally
friendly amphibians are quite common in undisturbed woodlands. They are
extraordinarily retiring little animals, salamanders remaining within an area
of a few yards in a forest, almost all of their time spent out of sight under
stones or logs or a few inches down in the duff created by molding leaf litter.
There
they stay for most of the year, hibernating through the winter, and in summer
and fall feeding on the earthworms, snails, insects and spiders they find in
the soil. Yellow-spotted salamanders rarely even surface to bask in sunlight
like their cousins, the red efts I occasionally see sunning themselves on top
of rotting logs.
But
early each spring when changing temperatures and light conditions affect their
hormones, these animals' instincts drive them to sudden activity. In this they
are a bit like us. Tired of short days and finally recovering from cabin fever,
we too rush outside to take advantage of the warmer temperatures.
The
salamander operates on a smaller scale, however. Its migration is only a few
hundred yards and takes it to a nearby slow-moving stream, pond or vernal pool.
It
is while they are on those spring marches that these otherwise reclusive
animals are occasionally to be seen in large numbers. Usually, however, they migrate
on rainy nights when all but the most intrepid observers prefer to stay
indoors. That those numbers are indeed large was brought home to me several
years ago when I was hiking the Conservation Trail near Dansville. The trail
took me out onto a highway that separated a steep hill on one side from a pond
on the other. For a quarter mile I found the road strewn with the crushed
bodies of salamanders of a half dozen species. Judging from the 200-300 animals
that did not make it, I am sure that well over a thousand salamanders crossed
there successfully.
That
experience led me to a better realization of how many of these creatures there
are living out their quiet lives in our woodlands. Basing my estimate on only
that one experience, I suspect that there are several of these solitary
salamanders in every acre of forest.
For
those yellow-spotted salamanders whose migration to water has been successfully
completed - often through ice and snow - the males, arriving first, deposit
spermatophores on underwater twigs. On our Reinstein adventure we were
fortunate to find a half dozen males swimming about underwater, only one or two
females having arrived, and we could see a few of the whitish sparmatophores
they had deposited.
Chuck
netted one and we had an opportunity to see it up close. In our flashlights it
was an attractive shiny black with striking yellow spots.
The
females pick up those spermataphores with their cloacae. Thus inseminated, they
lay egg masses, attaching them to submerged objects. Over a hundred eggs appear
like brown dots in each milky white glob.
With
their reproductive roles completed, the adult salamanders depart for their
upland homes, where they will again retire into obscurity for another year.
This
is the time when vernal pools play an important role. Unlike other ponds and
streams, they are only temporary and thus they are not populated by fish that
would gladly feed on those unguarded egg masses. The proto-salamanders have a
far better chance for survival there unless the pools dry out too quickly.
The
unattended eggs that are not discovered by predators hatch in 31 to 54 days.
They appear at first like tiny wriggling tadpoles and, by the time they escape
from the egg mass as larvae, they look a bit like minnows with a keel-like tail
and feathery tufts growing from their necks.
The
larvae transform over the next two to four months into adult salamanders. Only
then will these orphans make their way out of the water to adopt lives like
those of their unknown parents.
Their
upland predators include snakes, toads, frogs, turtles and birds. Despite this,
a few live 30 years.