10:05 on the night of April 30th, on the road near
the LRC—a group of students slowly sweep the lights from their headlamps back
and forth, back and forth across the road, searching for treasure. A warm
drizzle falls softly through the forty-five degree air, and those who listen
closely can hear the gentle susurration of the rain as it hits the
ground. Whoever listens that closely also hears the far-off calling
of hundreds of peepers and the occasional chorus frog. But something
even more special awaits those who not only listen, but look closely
as well.
Suddenly, I see the shape we are all searching
for. Hours earlier, seeing that there would be a warm rain that
night, I predicted this would happen. But my excitement for this event has been
building for months. Before dinner, I and a few other students had requested
and received the permission for everyone to head outside and experience this
remarkable, once-a-year event for 45 minutes after study hours. It turns
out to be a magical 45 minutes, as part of one of the Northwoods’ greatest
natural events should.
The shape on the road is a salamander—a gorgeous Blue-spotted
Salamander, the first of dozens of these beautiful creatures that we will see
in the ensuing 40 minutes. The salamanders are on the
march. I have always thought of this as one of the most anticipated
natural events of the year, and I am thrilled at the opportunity to experience
it in the Northwoods. This is the reason we are out here. It’s BIG
NIGHT.
Big Night, especially this far north, occurs for at most 12
hours out of every year, but it is not to be missed. It happens
during the first nocturnal warm rain of the spring. This sign of spring is felt
by thousands of amphibious bodies holed up in their burrows, under their rocks
and logs, and wherever else a salamander may have chosen to
stay last winter. They quickly warm up—they have no time to
waste—and embark on a long journey to the ponds where they must mate and lay
eggs. And they can’t travel to just any pond—they need vernal pools:
seasonal bodies of water that fill in spring from snowmelt and other runoff,
and dry up during the hotter summer months. Most importantly, vernal ponds are fishless, therefore lacking one of the most devastating
predators of salamander eggs and young.
Salamanders often need to travel 300 yards or more to reach a
suitable pond, a staggering distance for a creature as small as 1.5 inches in
length. The males face yet another challenge—if they don’t get there
quickly enough, they don’t get to mate. For the males, the march to the
vernal pools is a grueling race over hills, sticks, rocks, and other such
things that would hinder a little salamander’s travel. Most get
there eventually, unless there’s a high-traffic road or large farm field
standing in their way. Fortunately, Conserve School has neither.
Not long after finding the first salamander, we find a
gigantic Spotted Salamander near the TC parking lot. He’s a
monster! I’ve never seen a Spotted Salamander so big. Later on we
find another one, almost as big, near the Green Machine. The real stars of the
show, though, are the Blue-spotteds. They are everywhere—big and small, bright
and dull, young and old. We find an outstanding total of at least 21
Blue-spotted Salamanders. We are witnessing the Northwoods Big Night
at its best.
I believe that this experience relates to Learning Goal #5
for two reasons. First, I recognized an opportunity to show and educate
people about a remarkable natural event. Second, I and several
others pursued that opportunity by requesting and being granted the special
permission to go out after study hours and watch it in action. Big
Night was certainly one of my favorite experiences ofthe semester so far.
A Big Night indeed!
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