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Music: Son House and J.D. Short “You Been Cheating Me,” Blues From the Mississippi Delta, Recorded by Samuel Charters for Folkways Records, FW02467, FA 2467, 1963
****** Rattlesnake buzzing *******
I hope you never have to hear that sound—and unless you’ve got a death wish, you’d better move opossum slow in the opposite direction.
Hey, welcome to The Southern Minute. I’m your host, Cave Buckner, and we’re going to talk about some of the myths and interesting facts about the timber rattlesnake, a reptile species that is prevalent across the Southland and usually found in bottomland hardwood timber, hence the name.
This snake is venomous. For defense, it uses a set of long, folding fangs for biting that is connected to a venom sack that is extremely potent, containing both hemorrhagic and neurotoxic venom.
Should it decide to strike a human, its intention is to do harm to where you’ll leave it alone. Don’t worry, to a rattler, you’re too big to eat. As a heavy-bodied snake, its size is impressive. They can grow to be 5-7 feet long, but I don’t think anyone has ever seen a small rattlesnake, have they? It has a triangular head like most vipers and has special heat-sensing organ between the eye and the nostril, known as a loreal pit, one on each side of its head. They allow the snake to detect levels of infrared radiation, creating a thermal image of a warm-bodied prey. These pits are so sensitive, they can detect heat in small increments—less than a fraction of a degree in temperature.
I’ll never forget a visit to Mingo Swamp, down in Missouri’s Bootheel region in the southeast part of the state, known as “the Delta.” This part of the state could easily be Louisiana swampland. It’s home to creepy crawlers and swimmers like bowfin, swamp rabbits, cottonmouths and yes, timber rattlesnakes.
Cave Buckner holds a timber rattlesnake that had been run over in the road, on the 30,000 acre Peck Ranch Conservation Area, in the Missouri Ozarks. He was a wildlife student intern for the Missouri Department of Conservation in 1978.
I was a forestry student at the University of Missouri, studying the practical aspects of forestry such as how to inventory, learning growth measurement techniques, and sawmill operation, and we were standing in a cherry bark oak stand on a hot June day, right after lunch.
Someone had given me a “dip,” and for the uninitiated, that’s snuff tobacco—just a pinch between your lower lip and gum. Anyway, as I was taking notes about cherry bark oak, I glanced down to spit in an appropriate place and came eye-to-eye with a large, coiled timber rattlesnake. I noticed the sickly bronze and yellow stripe down it’s back, which is actually beautiful, within a geometric pattern of shades of brown and black. I could see it’s reptilian eye, that vertical slit, cold, stoney, and all business. I didn’t panic, because it would have already hit me if he wanted to. I was about 18 inches from him. I have no doubt he was guarded, but for some reason, not threatened enough to lash out.
It was deathly hot in that bottom and I’d just had lunch, so I was moving slow anyway and assumed the snake was in the same boat. Maybe it had consumed a cotton rat and was blissfully content, in a bit of a summer stupor.
I’ll never know, but once I moved to a safe distance, I informed the group of its presence. Some moved closer to get a better look, but it just stared back, nonplussed, and didn’t move an inch, much less shake its rattles.
The striking distance of a timber rattlesnake in general is roughly a third of its body length. Remember, in the mind of a human being, there are no small snakes, so I would say, 2 ½ to 3 ½ feet to be safe, and it strikes incredibly fast—within a tenth of a second.
So I learned something: They aren’t an aggressive snake. Even when they rattle, they consider it a warning, not necessarily a measure of snake anger.
They prefer to be left alone and will yield ground to a human if it means avoiding confrontation. Most living creatures, including humans, respond with a base survival tactic—a fight or flight response. If the snake feels cornered, reacts to being surprised, has young nearby, or maybe depending on the personality and health of the snake, it may be more prone to attacking a perceived threat. Not too different from humans, who have different mobility and reasoning abilities. The base responses are the same.
Illinois research shows timber rattlesnakes return each year to the same hunting and breeding grounds and travel routes. They thrive within a home range of familiarity, since they rarely survive outside of their home range. Males occupy home ranges of roughly 220 acres.
As a reptile, they can’t generate their own body heat and instead depend on external warmth to survive, so they semi-hibernate in the South, usually in dens called hibernaculums, which are within rocky, south-facing slopes, as they prefer an air temperature around 50 degrees. They can be seen sunning outside, on rocks in winter on warmer, clear days.
Timber rattlesnakes occupying the same hibernaculum (especially juveniles and pregnant females, have been reported to be more closely related to each other than to the rattlesnakes in neighboring dens; studies have suggested this behavior may be related to juveniles' ability to track chemical cues from relatives. We’re not talking incest here, but hibernating as a family, along with other snake species, year after year.
So, what about reproduction? Timber rattlesnakes are not very prolific. A New York study found that the first reproduction occurs at a mean age of 9.6 years. Most females only reproduced once in a lifetime.
Their young are live-born, as opposed to hatching from eggs and can range in number from 7 to 16, but 7 live-born is the usual number.
In closing I just want to say, timber rattlesnakes play an important part in Nature by keeping their prey populations balanced. High populations of any living creature triggers natural responses within those populations such as disease or immune responses that aid in their mortality. I view these snakes, or any snake for that matter, with caution, while realizing they play an awesome part in keeping our web of life running in sync and on time.
You’ve been listening to The Southern Minute—I’m your host Cave Buckner. Get outside and reflect upon our strange, wonderful and awesome planet.