Listening to the Jays, Again

One of my very first posts to this blog was about a snake I caught just a glimpse of after belatedly realizing the shrill alarms of the blue jays in the backyard actually signified something.

Today, when jays, wrens and even a few feathered thugs went into a frenzy in the big cedar at the back of the yard, I was a little quicker on the uptake. Grabbed my camera and headed out the back gate and ....

Stood there, looking dumbly around my feet, for whatever was making the birds so nervous. Finally, I turned my eyes skyward, and there it was: a long, shiny, mostly black form draped across several green-needled branches.

The Texas Rat Snake (Elaphe obsoleta lindheimeri), also commonly called a "chicken snake" is quite common through much of the state, and its presence near the top of a tree is explained by a taste for eggs and baby birds. And that, in turn, explains the mobbing behavior of adult birds programmed to protect their nests.

Rat snakes can be quite beneficial, as they are voracious eaters and small rodents feature prominently in their diets. They subdue prey by constriction.

Unlike the closely related Corn snakes of the North American pet trade, rat snakes are nasty-tempered creatures. Not venomous, but certainly toothy. Even knowing this, today I actually walked back to the house for a rake, thinking I would be able to dislodge the snake and capture it.

My brother, John, who shares my interest in herps -- in fact has taken it much further than I ever did -- says "not a chance."

"I once climbed 25' in an oak tree chasing one," he e-mailed today. "Once you do find one you can catch, you will get bitten, you will bleed and it will shit all over you as it thrashes it's tail."

By the time I returned to the tree, the snake was gone or successfully hidden. Lucky me, eh?