Exciting news, but there is a catch. The St. Martin skink was described from museum specimens, some dating from the 1800s and one acquired by a museum in 1965, although the date of collection is unknown. There are no documented sightings of this lizard in decades, and it is at best very rare and more probably extinct. Our new species was gone before we even knew about it.

We did know that there were skinks here, but they were previously considered to be from a more widespread species. It’s something that has happened here on multiple occasions. Anolis pogus has been considered a species only since 1990, and Thecadactylus oskrobapreinorum was described in 2011. Both species are lizards that live only on St. Martin, but previously weren’t considered separate species. Luckily, unlike the skink, those two are still easily found on the island.

Historically, endemic species from the Caribbean have often been under-studied and misunderstood. Today there are still opportunities to learn more about them using new technology like DNA analysis, but also just by taking the time to use more traditional scientific analysis to learn about our fauna. Although it is exciting that a new species has been named from St. Martin, it’s profoundly disappointing that it will probably only be known from a few museum specimens and observational accounts from the past.

This brings us to the kitchen. One account I found of the St. Martin skink described it living in dry areas, and “sometimes also in or near kitchens.” Reading this description, I was struck with two possible interpretations. One is that skinks do in fact have a fondness for kitchens. The other is that we know so little about them that every scrap of information about them is worth mentioning. I don’t own the book that cites this, but it makes me wonder how many people actually saw this lizard in their kitchen: a few? maybe just one person?

If another new species of reptile is discovered from St. Martin, I wonder what it will be. Will it be described from museum specimens of other reptiles that are now extinct on the island (the Leeward Island racer or the Lesser Antillean iguana, perhaps) or will it be something that we still have a chance to see, study and protect from extinction? Hopefully, by investing in studying our fauna and protecting at least some of the natural environment on St. Martin, we’ll find it while it is still with us.

In the meantime, on the off chance that the St. Martin skink is still surviving somewhere on the island, keep an eye out for lizards in your kitchen.

The easiest way to find a killdeer nest is to keep an eye out for the parents. They will make alarm calls and put on quite a show to distract you from the nest, including the old broken wing act and another move where they stick their butt in the air. I guess you could call that move the killdeer back-end.

Although the birds are comfortable nesting around human activity, the nests themselves are quite vulnerable, so it is important to be very careful if you are traveling in a potential nesting area, particularly if there are adults exhibiting these behaviors. Below are some photos of nests and the parents guarding them with their distraction displays.

Typically, after an initial confrontation the weaker lizard would immediately move on to another location, but the sick lizard was largely immobile. The healthy lizard repeatedly attacked and probably would have continued to do so indefinitely had we not moved the sickly anole. It was interesting to see the reaction of the healthy lizard when the traditional rules of combat were not in play.

The photos below showcase a few interesting things. First, of course, is the unusual appearance of the sickly anole. I couldn’t say what caused its condition. It could have some sort of disease, infection or internal injury or perhaps could have been poisoned by eating insecticide laden insects. The photos also show a healthy female anole displaying aggressive coloration and territorial defense behavior.

As far as the ethics of the situation, I’m not sure there were any great solutions. The lizard was clearly dying, but we found that any available perch was inevitably part of an already occupied territory. Leaving an immobile lizard in the sun would result in it being eaten by a predator or dying of overheating. It may have been best to kill the lizard as painlessly as possible, but that didn’t occur to me at the time. In the end it seemed reasonable to document the behavior and try to find an unoccupied perch but ultimately let the situation work itself out naturally.

This fantastic specimen shows two formidable foes caught forever in their mutual destruction. The wasp (Pepsis rubra) is from a group known as tarantula hawks, which hunt and paralyze tarantulas, bringing them to their burrows as food for their larvae. Typically an egg is laid on the tarantula and the larva eats the paralyzed host. The tarantula (probably Cyrtopholis sp.) is also a venomous predator.

In this case, it seems each was able to kill each other, and they remained joined in death with the tarantula’s fangs gripping one of the wasp’s legs.

Bonus: The oleander caterpillar moth (Empyreuma affinis) is a wasp-mimic that mimics Pepsis rubra.

The salt flats surrounding Salines d’Orient serve as a nesting ground for several species of bird, and apparently the nesting season has begun. This killdeer (Charadrius vociferus) is brave enough to try to distract and intimidate humans near its nest, even though we are hundreds of times larger than it is. Camouflaged eggs and a dedicated parent are the only protection for a nest on the ground, and unfortunately, few chicks in the area survive until adulthood. Predators include mongoose and dogs, and the barely noticeable nests are also easily trampled by humans.

If you are in the area this time of year, it is best to avoid walking on the salt flats, or to do so very carefully, and keep dogs on their leash. This will at least give these brave birds a fighting chance to raise their young.

The views were spectacular, and I believe that part of the trail that runs along an old slave wall may actually also be running along the border between the two nations on the island. There was also plenty of wildlife to be seen, including many tree frogs, the beautiful black witch moth and my first sighting of the zestos skipper. On the way down to Loterie Farm, I also passed the remains of the Sucrerie Loterie, sitting in the forest that has grown up around it since the days of colonial agriculture.

The coolest thing I found were some debris-carrying lacewing larvae. These hunters camouflage themselves with various debris, including the exoskeletons of their prey. There were also plenty of stink bugs, katydid nymphs and fuzzy green weevils. Although the area may not be as beautiful or species-rich as some areas of the island, it’s a lovely, and accessible patch of scrub in an otherwise largely-developed area.

Soon, with the start of the nesting season, this area will be home to very well camouflaged bird nests, so walking around there is not recommended. Of course, having seen mongoose there recently, humans aren’t the only threat to these nests.