Chicago Nature Blog: The Psychology of Hope

Throughout my life, I've witnessed firsthand many instances of destruction of nature by the hand of man. From frogs being beaten to death by baseball bats, to the destruction of huge swaths of prairie, savanna, wetlands, and woodlands. As a young child, a watched a man chop a very large fox snake up to pieces with a shovel not far from where I stood. That incident really hit me hard and was the basis for the introduction to an Environmental Autobiography I wrote in college. I never understood why someone would do something so heartless. I saw the dark side of the exotic pet trade for many years. Styrofoam-lined cooler boxes filled with dehydrated, stressed, wild-collected reptiles and amphibians. I watched as drivers would intentionally swerve to hit box turtles crossing the road. On a bigger scale, I cannot drive through Kendall County, Illinois these days without passing by brand-new housing developments where not ago, precious natural land had existed for thousands of years before. Miles of big homes, mostly identical in appearance, spaced far apart from each other in confusing curvilinear street patterns. And of course, the ever-annoying instance of a soda can in the trash, when there is a clearly-marked recycling container right next to it.

As an individual who has dedicated his life to learning about, teaching about, and protecting nature and our environment, it is very important for me to maintain an optimistic view of human nature and the future. Sometimes, though, it is very hard. It seems that for every person I meet that has a love and respect for nature, ten are ignorant to the issues we are facing and are more interested in worldly things like clothes and iPhones (nothing against those things, personally I just don't hold them in as high regard). Thanks to television networks such as Animal Planet, Discovery, and NatGeo, the only nature a lot of people seem to care about is "extreme" nature - the bite force of an alligator, the toxicity of the inland taipan, the viciousness of the red-belly piranha, and so on. The internet, and specifically YouTube and Facebook, has made it easy for many people to provide and access a lot of information about virtually anything. But again, the "most extreme" theme continues - I entered the word "snakes" and searched YouTube for videos. The top results include: "If you're scared of snakes, don't watch this" by National Geographic, "5 meanest snakes in the world!", and "Black Mambas, Africa's most dangerous snake". A child researching snakes for a school paper or project is going to get an earful about how dangerous snakes are and how deadly they are to people. Not a good first impression.

Two recent videos posted to YouTube illustrate human ignorance to a great degree. One video featured two high school aged girls lighting a young gopher tortoise on fire, throwing it in the air, and finally stomping on it to death, all the while laughing and joking about how it just "wouldn't die". And then there is a video I was made aware of called "Raping a Snake", in which several young people gut a live garter snake with a knife and drain its blood all over the patio and stairs. Even more videos of animal cruelty exist - snake head decapitation, shooting snakes with shotguns, microwaving animals, and more. Maybe it's just me, but I see something very wrong with this. Too many people are raised to fear what they don't understand (or misunderstand) and this results in poor values and behavior. I've taken it upon myself to do the best I can to show them that all life is precious and should be respected. I certainly do not ever expect everyone to like snakes, but by understanding them, they can learn to appreciate their true roles on this planet - roles that do not include eating people. I like to hope people can open up to these ideas.

Last week, I saw a posting on Craigslist for a "free garden snake". I was curious as to the circumstances surrounding the offer, and reached out to the poster, Joe. It turns out that Joe's family was witnessing a garter snake hanging around their house over the last few weeks and he was interested in seeing if someone wanted to remove the snake. I made arrangements to visit with Joe when the snake showed up again. Sure enough, I got a call on Saturday morning that the snake was out again near the front steps. When I arrived, I met a young couple, maybe around my age, who had a young boy. The couple was very interested in NOT having the snake around their house - fair enough. Within a minute or two, the snake was fished out of some Hydrangeas, where it has been basking. It was a big, beautiful, likely gravid (or pregnant) plains garter snake (Thamnophis radix). Shy and harmless, yet it still struck fear with the family. I had to remind myself that most sane, rational people share a fear of snakes, but there was something different about this family. Though wielding a long-handled shovel, Joe was very interested in seeing this snake leave his property alive and in good health. Instead of using that shovel to chop it up to itty bitty pieces, he took a photo of the snake (from a distance) and posted in on Craigslist - it took time, it took heart. It made me think, as I drove to the nearest forest preserve with said snake in tow, about hope, and about how important it is to remain hopeful that enough people are out there that give a damn enough to go out of their way, to stop whatever it is they are doing, and make a difference. To me, that is huge. I would love to see more people like Joe and his family. I don't expect to convert others to become snake lovers, just to think beyond what is expected of them by our culture of fear, with the risk of being called out or labeled as a tree-hugger.

Hope benefited me in more than one way that day. Hope is the main reason why I returned to the area I have been searching for queen snakes all spring and summer. And it paid off - FINALLY!

First, a set of photos from my visit to the queen snake stream I took a couple weeks ago with Jeffrey Peffers.

Not a queen snake, instead, a beautiful Northern water snake (Nerodia sipedon). I don't care how common these are, they are such cool snakes and almost always provide for an, um, interesting experience.

Not happy.

Jeffrey Peffers is all about gastropods and bivalves - basically, anything that has no propensity to bite, sting, scratch, or poop on you.

A very cool find in the stream bed - an old tooth, likely that of a cow but possibly from a bison. It is very old and is hard as a rock.

An Eastern eyed click beetle (Alaus oculatus). For the record, Jeffrey was scared of this, too. He doesn't like the clicking sound and motion these beetles make when they are trying to right themselves into an upright position.

This next set is from this past weekend.

The plains garter snake as seen by Joe, the homeowner, last week.

The same animal, upon being released at a nearby preserve several days later.

This one is due for a shed as evidenced by the cloudy blue eyes.

A young Northern water snake in situ I eyeballed, a moment or two before it dove for cover.

The American toadlets (Anaxyrus americanus) are plentiful and, at this stage of their lives, active by day as well as night, eating as much as they can in order to plump up by season's end. It is interesting watching them get bigger and bigger as the summer progresses.

They sure do camouflage!

A big (wolf?) spider covered in spiderlings.

The omnipresent brown snake (Storeria dekayi). This one is possibly gravid, and was surprisingly feisty.

On my fifth trip to this location, I finally found a queen snake (Regina septemvittata)! I waded through miles of ankle-to-knee-deep water and flipped hundreds of rocks before I spotted this juvenile. BIG rush!

These are difficult to photograph. When they are small, they are more delicate and very squirmy. Since they love doing the "death-roll", I need to ensure they won't hurt themselves. First two photographs are from the iPhone.

These came from my DSLR - very awkward situation in trying to photograph this snake standing on slippery, algae-covered boulders in a fast-flowing creek.