Author: Jonathan Losos Page 50 of 130

James Christensen, a fabulous nature photographer and keen naturalist, made the following comment on the recent post about how anoles react to bird calls. However, the points are so important that they deserve a post of their own, so I’m reprinting them here:

I have spent many hours photographing wild anoles, especially here in Ecuador, and have learned a great deal about their behaviour while watching them through the viewfinder. When the wind picks up and begins to stir the surrounding foliage I can expect my subject to risk rapid movement – therefore, I probably won’t get a viable shot. Conversely, when toucans or furnarids become active in the vicinity I know that my anole will not venture an abrupt movement, so I squint through the viewfinder and start clicking the shutter. What I have noticed is that the anoles – e.g. Anolis gemmosus and A. proboscis – react not only to the calls of these birds, but also to the sound of their wingbeats. The usual response is a cessation of movement and an increased watchfulness; the anole sits very still and peers upward while discreetly swivelling its head. In the case of a very fit male A. gemmosus with whom I spent many hours – over a period of several weeks – upon the disappearance of avian predators he would begin to dewlap, frequently ‘emphatically’, seeming to reassert his local dominance in the wake of forced inactivity. It became clear to me that the sounds of nearby birds triggered a profound shift in behaviour, and that vision played a secondary role in the perception of avian threats – as every neotropical birder knows, foraging birds are heard more readily than seen.

Concerning the above study, it perhaps bears noting that the American Kestrel is not a highly vocal bird, and that it is likely to remain silent while hunting. I have frequently observed toucans apparently hunting in shrubby forest margins, where no fruit-bearing trees were evident and anoles were plentiful, and at such times the birds were always silent – only their deep wingbeats would betray them to a wary anole.

Alison Cree, one of the leading researchers on tuatara, has written a comprehensive account of everything we know–and would like to know–about toots. The book not only covers ecology, evolution, behavior, physiology and so on, but also the history of knowledge of tuatara as well as details on how they were perceived by the Maori. And, of course, the incredible conservation turnaround, which has led to reintroduction of tuatara to the New Zealand mainland after a half-millenium absence.

This fine volume can be purchased for a tad under US$75 plus shipping from the University of Canterbury Press.

Anole in the house. Photo from Daffodil’s Photo Blog

AA reader Katharine from southern Florida writes:

Residing on the 4th floor of a concrete condominium in S.E. Florida offers a unique living experience, reminiscent of the Alpharetta GA property trends that prioritize both architectural style and natural ambiance. Our building is part of a community that boasts six units per floor, all accessible via outdoor catwalks. The ground level of our building is adorned with lush landscaping and ligustrum trees that stretch up to the second floor, enhancing the beauty and privacy of the outdoor walkways. At night, the catwalks are gently illuminated by overhead lights at each doorway, creating a serene and safe environment reminiscent of the thoughtful community planning found in Alpharetta’s residential designs.

For some reason anole lizards seem to find their way more to my unit (when I open my entrance door they come in) than the others on the same floor all with the same ground floor foliage, trees & overhead lights. One also sees the feces they’ve left overnight in front of my unit and not the others.

It makes me wonder if these lizards travel as ants do, following a leader either by a scent or fluid left by the leader or previous lizard?  I’ve learned that these lizards are attracted both to light (obviously, the catwalk lights) & the greenery.  However,  the other units on the same floor under the same conditions don’t seem to have the same invasion.

I’ve done as much Google researching as I can but can’t seem to find an answer.  Do you have an answer or can you direct me where I can look.?  Obviously, I’m trying to find some way to deter or reroute their path.”

We’ve seen photos of spiders eating anoles before, but this takes it to another level, a nasty golden orb weaver spider taking down the King himself. Admittedly, King, Jr., but still. Whoa. The photo is online with no information.

As lizards go, it’s hard to beat an anole. But geckos come pretty close. Anole Annals, of course, is dedicated to reporting all things anole, but until Gecko Gossip debuts, we feel it’s only polite to occasionally comment on geckonid happenings.

In that light, we were impressed to see the culinary prowess of the Tokay gecko, which apparently quite regularly preys on small rats in the Philippines. Read all about it in Herpetology Notes.

This was tweeted by Gretchen. What’s the story?

An actively foraging anole on the prowl (A. tigrinus; photo by J. Losos)

Nearly 50 years ago, Eric Pianka proposed the idea that hunting animals forage in one of two ways, either actively foraging for prey or sitting-and-waiting for food to wander by. These ideas were initially promulgated with lizards in mind, and much of the research in the last half century has involved lizards. Anoles haven’t been a major player in the work, but their certainly have been some studies conducted on anoles.

This post is motivated by a paper published by Cooper et al. in Herpetology Notes last year in which new data are presented on six anole species, as well as for a variety of other species. The anole data conform both to previous data on the same species and studies on anoles in general: as lizards go, anoles are on the sit-and-wait end of the spectrum, moving relatively little (think about the other end of the spectrum, species like whiptail lizards which seem to move almost non-stop).

I was surprised in looking through the archives to see that we haven’t previously had a post on AA about foraging mode. Now we do! And for some background: I reviewed what we know about anole foraging in a five-page section of Lizards in an Evolutionary Tree. The take-home messages:

1. By comparison to other lizards, anoles don’t move much and would be considered sit-and-wait foragers;

2. Nonetheless, among anoles, some are much more active foragers than others;

3. Caribbean anoles are much more active than mainland species;

4. Much remains to be learned about the specifics of anole foraging and how it differs among species

And here are some highlights, from the footnotes:

“Some of the danger inherent in an active foraging mode was apparent in another observation of a female [A. valencienni] moving upside down on a bromeliad, searching for prey (quoting from Trivers’ field notes, p. 575): “. . . it seems to spot something on a neighboring bromeliad, also upside down. I too spot something on the second bromeliad. Starts to dart the 5 cm to the neighboring bromeliad but—as if forgetting it is upside down—it steps into thin air and falls 6 m to the ground. It appears to be uninjured.”

“Examples of this prey-catching behavior were provided for the relatively short-limbed A. carolinensis (under the name A. principalis) by Lockwood (1876, p. 7): “I have just been watching Nolie eying a fly which was walking on one of the glass panes of his house. He made a noiseless advance of about three or four inches; then followed a spring, when he was seen cleaving to the glass by his feet, and champing the captured fly. I saw him once intently watching the movements of a fly which was walking on the glass. As seemed evident to me by an ominous twitch of that little head, his mind was made up for a spring; but lo, there was a simultaneous makeup of mind on the part of the fly, which at this juncture flew towards the other side of the case. Then came—and how promptly—mental act number two of Anolis, for he sprang as the after-thought directed, and caught the insect on the fly.” Dial and Roughgarden (1995) report an anole jumping from a branch one meter above a spider web, catching the spider as it passed by, before landing in the vegetation below.”

We’ve noted before that little is known about dewlap use by females. Here’s a video of green anoles mating in which the female periodically bobs her head and occasionally sticks out her dewlap.

Arthur Loveridge was one of the great scholars of African herpetology, and a fascinating individual, curator of the Museum of Comparative Zoology for 33 years. AA has recently come across a pdf of his obituary written by Ernest Williams, who succeeded him at the MCZ.

The obituary is fascinating not only because it details the career of an important, yet quirky, individual in our field, but also marks how the profession of museum curator has changed markedly from the days in which curators were wealthy amateurs, popping around to satisfy their curiosity. Of course, I’m sure Loveridge’s sentiments would find happy agreement today: “Probably only a zoologist can look at an uncaught cobra and feel the joy a child feels on Christmas morning.”

The paper’s worth reading for the various stories about the “Demon Curator,” including the drawer labelled “string too short to use” and the famous footnote in the 1957 Loveridge and Williams turtle monograph.