Speaking of Nature: A great time to be a red eft: Part two in the three-part life cycle of the Eastern spotted newt
It has been a long, wet, raw month of May and my outdoor time has been curtailed by rotten weather on the weekends. So, it was with the utmost enthusiasm that I capitalized on a rare rain-free Saturday morning to get down to the Thinking Chair and commune with Nature just a bit. The chickadees (at least one of them) were ready to resume the practice of landing on my hat for some treats and I was very happy about that. I was also keen to see what was going on deeper in the forest, so after an hour of quiet observation time I got up out of my chair and headed into the woods.
Male ovenbirds and wood thrushes were singing and further into the trees I picked up on the presence of a male rose-breasted grosbeak and a red-eyed vireo. All of this birding was done by ear as I walked slowly down the trail that I made 20 years ago. The birds were too far away and too high up to ever see so I kept my eyes to the ground. This was very important because I happened to notice that the forest floor was alive with red efts (Notophthalmus viridescens).
As I moved along the trail I started counting how many I saw. One, two … six, seven … 18, 19 … there seemed to be an eft under every leaf. I had wonderful flashbacks to the summers of my youth when the entire family would head up into the Adirondacks of upstate New York every Labor Day weekend. When my sister was just a little kid, she absolutely adored efts and would lovingly pick up every one that she saw. It became something of an issue when she would return to camp with the pockets of her sweatshirt bursting with efts. She had a special spot where she would let them go after “saving” them, but I can only imagine the exhaustion the poor creatures must have felt when they were finally set free.
I had mentioned my sighting of dozens of efts in a text to my family and my mother must have relayed the story to Inge, who is one of our dear family friends. Inge had never heard of an eft and asked my mother to ask me for more information. So, Inge, this column is for you.
The red eft is the terrestrial phase in the three-part life cycle of the Eastern spotted newt. This small amphibian can grow to a maximum length of about 5 inches, but only after it has gone on quite an interesting journey. They start their lives as larvae that live underwater for about five to six months. During this time they are equipped with external gills that emerge from the neck behind the head. These gills are not covered by anything and look a little like pieces of coral. This is the most vulnerable stage in the eft’s life cycle and many aquatic animals prey on the larvae.
After their first few months of life, the larvae leave the water and change colors. They lose their gills and develop a set of internal lungs, which allows them to range far from water. It is also during this second land-based phase of their lives that they earn the name “red” eft because they transition from a dull brown to a bright orange-red. To protect themselves, they start producing a chemical weapon called “tetrodotoxin”; a neurotoxin which is powerfully emetic. These little creatures are not palatable and they go to great lengths to advertise this with their bright color. This is the same thing that monarch butterflies do and it is known as “aposematism.”
The little red efts may live on land, spreading around the landscape and looking for new aquatic habitats as they do so, for two to three years. During this time they act as little predators and they will basically eat anything that they can find. The thing to know about efts is the fact that, as cold-blooded (ectothermic) creatures they aren’t necessarily the speediest little creatures. I’m sure that this explains how a 4-year-old child could acquire so many so easily. Even a warm eft is a little on the slow side. So, the animals that they eat are also animals that can be rather slow, but the forest floor is full of creatures such as this.
After their teenage walkabout is over, the efts will find a suitable lake or pond and “return to the water.” The red efts lose their red color and adopt a more subtle olive green outfit. Their bellies will turn to a lovely shade of brown-mustard yellow and, in the case of the males, their tails will expand dramatically to help them swim. The only markings that stay the same are the little red spots on their backs. These spots are outlined with black and they are featured in the species’ other name, the red-spotted newt. Their tissues are still packed with the tetrodotoxin, which helps to protect them from predatory fish and crayfish. The newts spend the rest of their lives in the water, but they do not re-grow gills. As a result, the adults will occasionally make a dash to the surface of the water to take a gulp of air, but their cold-bloodedness and their thin amphibian skins allow some exchange of oxygen with the water.
As I mentioned earlier, this has been an extremely wet May. We’ve already had in excess of 5 inches of rain in the beginning of the month, which is a good 3 inches above normal. This is terrible for anyone trying to maintain a mowed lawn, but it is outstanding for our local amphibians. Cool and wet conditions allow them to range far and wide without the risk of drying out, and the swarm of efts that I saw certainly suggests that the little animals are taking advantage of the ideal conditions. If you can carve out a moment to go for a walk in a wooded setting, then keep your eyes on the ground in front of you. You might not be the only one taking a stroll through the forest. And if you have a small child with you, then you might want to do a simple pat-down search before you leave the woods, looking for pockets full of efts.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 28 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, the Nature Conservancy and the Massachusetts State Parks and he currently teaches high school biology and physics. For more in formation visit his website at www.speakingofnature.com, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.
Daily Hampshire Gazette
