Postage stamp for Anolis extremus, the Barbados Anole
Although advertisements on the Boston MBTA are trying to convince me that one visits Barbados for its white beaches and plush resorts, I know that the herpetofauna is the real draw!
Even with their large size, and one spending quite some time in their territories, it is somewhat difficult to find a Giant Anole during the day in the Dominican Republic. The most widespread and common species (at least in the Dominican side) is A. baleatus, which is not an unusual sighting at the mesic riparian forest of “Gran Cañada” in the botanical garden of Santo Domingo. But even there, observations are limited by spotting an animal right after it moves to hide away from view (squirreling or slowly sliding around tree trunks). The population in this particular locality seems to be stable and not pursued by people, whom locally have the misbelief that they are aggressive and harmful to humans.
Regarding a local species, A. barahonae, possibly the first encounter I had with this species was back in 2003, in the hills above Enriquillo, southwest of Barahona, where through binoculars, I saw at the distance and high in a large tree a White-necked Crow (Corvus leucognaphalus) holding a large, strong, greenish anoline lizard it its beak. Although I couldn’t see many details of the lizard, I think it must have been A. barahonae because it is the only Giant anole known from that locality. The White-necked Crow forages mainly in flocks and in the canopy, so I suppose that they represent a common predator to that anole species.
After that encounter, I have seen just a few more to date: one basking in a large tree in a shade coffee plantation, also in an epiphyte-packed tree in a cloud forest. This time (yesterday), a fellow local biologist and I were exploring some rivers in the Nizaito watershed, also south west of Barahona. Specificly at a tributary stream that pours into Río Paraiso, while taking photos to a basking Ameiva taeniura aside the road, about 11:00 a.m., I heard some noise coming from a nearby cluster of rather young Cecropia trees. Then my attention was caught by a glimpse of the wing beats of a sphinx moth, soon realizing that it already was in the mouth of a Baoruco Giant Anole. The anole kept still while holding its prey, with tail hanging outwards off the leaf where it was perched.
Unfortunately, I didn’t see the action before the attack happened, but as seen in the pictures, the dead leaf of the Cecropia was probably the perch that the moth used for roosting throughout the day. As most moths are nocturnal in habits, it is likely that it was inmobile siting there just relying in its cryptic coloration and pattern. In an earlier post: A. cuvieri On The Prowl, some excellent photographs by fellow naturalist Father Sanchez showed a Puerto Rican Giant Anole (Anolis cuvieri) deliberately moving about at moderate heights and using several kind of perches. I often imagine that all these anoles would take their prey mostly up in the canopy or high in the tree trunk, but these photographs of the A. barahonae eating this moth were taken at a height of 3 meters, atop of a small tree (Piperaceae) almost overlapping with a taller (8 m) Cecropia tree. Previous to when I heard the sounds coming from the attack, I didn’t notice any motion in the area as I was pretty close. The anole may have been stalking or more likely foraging and scanning this (unusual?) substrate in search of random prey.
Shedding green anole is the Photo of the Day at National Geographic.
Guadeloupe is composed of two islands whose shape is that of a butterfly and that were joined together in 1806 by the wooden Union Bridge and then the Gabarre Bridge in 1929:
- Situated to the west, Basse-Terre has an area of 848 km2. This is a volcanic mountain whose summit is the Soufriere, located at 1467m altitude. It is covered with a dense rainforest with many rivers and waterfalls.
- Situated to the east, Grande-Terre has an area of 586 km2. The substrate is limestone and consists of a plain bordered by a mangrove forest in the southwest, an irregular succession of hills called “les Grands Fonds” in the center and an arid plateau of rocky coasts in the north.
The species of endemic Anolis of Guadeloupe is called Anolis marmoratus, with reference to the orange marbling on the head of the specimens described by Dumeril and Bibron in 1837. In fact, Anolis marmoratus is a species which has 6 subspecies of Guadeloupe and six others on the islands around (La Désirade, Petite Terre, Marie Galante, Les Saintes, Les ilets Pigeons, Les Ilets Kahouanne, les Ilets Fajous).
Regarding Anolis marmoratus of Guadeloupe, the subspecies are:
Anolis marmoratus marmoratus
Anolis marmoratus marmoratus, which Lazell in 1962, noted as “the most beautiful anole he never saw.” It lives around Capesterre, at the southeast of Basse-terre. Adult male are apple-green, shading to blue on the tail and yellow-green on the limbs. The head, the neck and the orbital area are marbled with orange, the throat fan orange-yellow with yellow scales. Preliminary work we have conducted suggests that it could be classified as a trunk-ground ecomorph.
Anolis marmoratus girafus
Anolis marmoratus girafus that lives along the west coast of Basse-Terre in the driest area of this island.
Ian Wang stumbled across a recently-published species description of an unbelievable new Anolis species that may be a new ecomorph – the ground-ground anole!! You have to read it for youself!
A. maynardi pretending to be drowned
This A. maynardi comes fairly often to our bird bath in Little Cayman to drink, crawling down into the clear plastic tub and sunbathing on the rocks. After I took his picture (below) and went for a second shot, he got spooked and dove into the water, swam vigorously with much wiggling, and then started to play dead. He drifted at a very odd angle, not moving, tail end sinking slowly until only the tip of his elegant nose was exposed. When my husband tried to “save” him, he wiggled & swam away until he made contact with my husband’s hand, and then dove into a nearby pot plant. Has anyone else seen an anole playing possum?
Another Revell Lab (Liam, Kristin, Graham) trip to Puerto Rico this spring, and another series of encounters with the diminutive Anolis occultus and the spectacular Anolis cuvieri. Both of these species can be quite challenging to find, but we have had some good success in several locations in the Puerto Rican karst region. In January, we observed many individuals of both species
And managed to get a few in-hand for pictures
We also found a juvenile cuvieri, which has a gray coloration and an ontogenetic shift to green as they age:
Unless they happen to be one of the brown morph adults,
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r33UMVk1o5s&feature=email
As a scientist in life sciences, I have always tried to highlight the existence of laws. It seems to me that all science should be predictive. Once we are interested in locomotion, the first idea that comes to mind is the following: are there any laws of locomotion that transcend forms, species? Is it possible to predict locomotion of any species to the knowledge of environmental constraints it faces (Legreneur et al., 2012)?
I am not a herpetologist. Over 15 years I have worked on humans, and especially high-level athletes and the elderly. I demonstrated in humans that the trajectory of any point controlled by the central nervous system was still as linear as possible. This point is either the fingertip during a pointing or grasping task, or the body center of mass during locomotion, e.g. during the takeoff phase of a jump. Since most joints move in rotation, and that the controlled point displaces through a linear path, it is necessary to dephase the rotating joints to transform the rotation kinematic energy into linear energy. Finally, for transmiting force from the body to the substrate, for example from the hip to the ground during the jump, the joints move in a proximal-to-distal manner, i.e. the extension of the hip precedes the ones of the knee and the ankle.
To demonstrate that these laws observed in humans were applicable to all terrestrial tetrapods, I am interested in two phylogenetically very distant arboreal jumpers, i.e. a prosimian, Microcebus murinus, and a squamate, Anolis sp. I reproduced with these two species the same experiments that I conducted on humans, i.e. leap up to maximum and submaximal heights. Thus I demonstrate that the coordination observed during take-off in maximal leaping were identical in humans, Microcebus and Anolis (Legreneur et al., 2010; Legreneur et al., 2011; Legreneur et al., 2012).
For those of you who enjoy reading literature of the non-Anolis variety in your limited spare time, allow me to recommend the work of author and journalist Carl Hiaasen for a shot of anole-spiked satire. Hiaasen’s extensive fiction and non-fiction works (which are reminiscent of Edward Abbey and Christopher Moore, to name a few) have captured the elusive charm and absurdity of the people and wildlife of Florida, and should be required reading for anyone who has been or is thinking of traveling there.
Although none of Hiaasen’s novels have focused on anoles, they make frequent cameo appearances in his work. For example, in his most recent young adult novel “Chomp,” one of the precocious main characters, Tuna, “captured a brilliant green anole lizard and helped Wahoo memorize its scientific name, Anolis carolinensis, which was a mouthful.” In another book, “Nature Girl,” a frustrated private investigator follows a sleazy telemarketer and his girlfriend into the everglades, where they have been lured by the phony promise of a luxurious ecotour. The PI is intent on capturing evidence of the telemarketer’s infidelity, but instead captures extensive footage of A. carolinensis engaged in “adult” behaviors.
Apparently, Hiaasen’s interest in anoles extends beyond their supporting role in his fiction. At a recent Q&A session with publishers at Random House, Hiaasen drew gasps from the audience when he described noosing A. equestris in Coral Gables and prying their mouths off his bloodied fingers using a quarter, and later being knocked off a ladder when the same species leapt off an outdoor light fixture and onto his face, again drawing blood. Hiaasen also described a childhood and adolescence (still in progress, according to the 59-year-old author) spent chasing lizards and other herps with his friends, his children, and later his grandchildren. Clearly Hiaasen deserves the honorary title of “anolologist.”
Perhaps anoles will figure more prominently in his next book? Personally, I’ll be crossing my fingers until then.
Reader Louise Butler from the Big Island writes: “I am attaching two photos. One is a battle royale on the outerside of my kitchen window. Two anole-like dudes (?) duking it out, each grasping the other’s jaw. They remained this way, occasionally changing position but never letting go, for several minutes. Most amazing was that my indoor anole hardly noticed them and he was on the inside of the very same screen! Look at the difference in size.
I’ve never before, or since seen Anolis this big.
The second photo depicts the gold-dust day gecko’s most favored way of proliferation. They love the car. I’ve seen several emerging from the innards of my neighbor’s car after one of his trips to Kona from our location on the eastern tip of the Big Island.”
So, readers, what do you think about the size of those Hawaiians? And let’s not forget that geckos are not the only ones that use that means of transportation.