Creatures Great and Small Welcome Summer

We had a Memorial Day visitor in our yard, not exactly unexpected this time of year. A fairly large snapping turtle had emerged from the pond and was busy laying eggs in our yard. She had dug out five holes in well-moistened soil following the previous day’s rain. This process took three hours or more, not that I watched out the window every moment. After covering up the hole (yes, the yard was a bit of a mess at this point), she slowly lumbered back to the pond. The next morning, sure enough, the clutch of eggs had been disturbed with only the rubbery shells remaining.

When I went outside, I smelled skunk so maybe that’s what got them, a skunk exclaiming, “Oh boy, fresh eggs for breakfast!” Turtles have laid eggs before in our yard and each time something gets the eggs.

Although these carapaced creatures may look prehistoric, having turtles emerge from a pond is not like having alligators on your lawn, another of many reasons I’ve never wanted to live in Florida. Speaking of reptiles, I understand I just missed seeing a rather long eastern milk snake slither across the road into the woods. That’s OK. I saw it or its kin scoot under the porch last year and about jumped out of my skin, however harmless such a snake is. A paucity of venomous snakes is one other great thing about New England in my book.

To return to snapping turtles, the Mass.gov website informs me that the current record of wild-caught snapper was 75.6 pounds and it was caught in Mass. I have never seen a snapper that big though we have helped some pretty big ones cross the road from time to time. Turtles are prone to warming up in the spring by sitting in the middle of a paved road.

To help them move to safety, we’ve used a sturdy plastic snow shovel which you carefully maneuver under the turtle’s rear, gently nudging it in the right direction. The turtle will get mad so you need to stay away from its head, as it will quickly turn around and snap at you. I once saw someone pick up a snapper by the tail and carry it back to water but I certainly wouldn’t advise this.

According to the Mass.gov website, “The time most people encounter them is during the egg-laying season in late May and June, when females may travel considerable distances from water to nest. Nesters are attracted by the smell of disturbed earth, and often deposit their large clutches of 20-40 spherical eggs in piles of loam or recently tilled gardens and lawns. Eggs take about 90 days to hatch; young may overwinter in the nest and emerge the following spring (my note: this is only if something doesn’t get them first). Snappers grow very rapidly when young, and may live for 50 years or more. They are formidable biters when on land or removed from water but more docile in water.”

As a species, snapping turtles have been around for about 90 million years (!) according to the Audubon Society. This means they survived the massive extinction that killed off the dinosaurs 65 million years ago. So yes, they certainly are prehistoric and true survivors. If you’d like to know more about these amazing creatures: https://www.audubon.org/magazine/staying-power-snapping-turtles

Spring and early summer are also marked by the happy songs of various birds returning north. This year for the first time I heard the distinctive sound of the great crested flycatcher (I think), identified thanks to a birding app, though I didn’t actually see the birds. Cheerful songbirds singing all day among the new green leaves (not yet chewed up by various insects) – what a lovely sound and sight, especially when you think of the miserable snow and cold of just a few months ago.

We will still suffer with ticks (seemingly new disease-bearing ones all the time), mosquitoes, and new nuisances like the spotted lantern fly (I haven’t seen one yet but undoubtedly will soon). Let’s not forget poison ivy, growing like a weed indeed. On second thought, after the rather bumpy, up and down spring weather we have had this year, let’s forget about poison ivy and its ilk and just take a moment to appreciate the wonder that is June in New England.