ESP majors play wingman during yearly amphibian migration

Alison Kaiser

She/Her

Staff Writer

4/19/24

We move under the cover of darkness, loading into the van around 8 pm. The energy is high, and the excited chatter of thirteen Environmental Science and Policy students fills the air. “I got the email and responded in, like, four minutes” said Jimmy Scanlon ‘26. The team, led by professor Rachelle Lyons, has assembled to participate in the annual spring amphibian migration referred to by some as the Big Night.  The van comes to a screeching halt as somebody yells “I see one!” Seatbelts unbuckle rapidly, the door slides open. “Move, move, move!” We’re on a rescue mission, and have to act fast. 

Equipped with gloves, headlamps, and an amphibian ID sheet, the objective is simple: protect the amphibians from cars as they migrate across busy roadways to their breeding grounds. There are a few rules. 1: specimens can only be assisted in the direction they are already going, regardless of personal opinion. Nature knows best!  2: Gloves must be used and sanitized between each handling, so as not to spread disease such as Chytridiomycosis among specimen. 3: All identified organisms (dead or alive) must be reported to an elected scribe, Isla Lyons ‘24.  

Biodiversity loss, especially among amphibians, is increasing globally. The causes — climate change, habitat destruction, and disease (to name a few) — can seem overwhelming and out of our control. Collecting and reporting data on big nights is an attainable way to make a difference in your community because it contributes to the development of species occurrence maps. These are a tool created by conservationists that can be used as a metric to assess the health of a species. Data collection also helps to avoid data deficiency, or an unclear status of a species often due to lack of resources to monitor them. 

Ideal conditions for migration are the first rainy nights in spring, typically mid April, when temperatures are above forty degrees. We drive through backroads in Plymouth, playing classics such as ‘Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog’ and ‘I Like to Move It’ by Crazy Frog. We pull over every few minutes at locations pre-selected by Professor Lyons, and also for the occasional “Stop! What is that?!” shouted by onlookers from the backseat. 

The spring mating season is a race against time. Vernal pools are depressions in the ground that fill with water in the springtime due to snowmelt and rain. They dry out quickly, and mass death can occur if eggs have not hatched and developed a means of getting around on land. Many amphibians, including spotted salamanders, tend to migrate to the same pools they were born in to reproduce, so surveying these locations and comparing the number of participants to previous years is a good indicator of the success (or distress) of the species. 

For every frog and salamander who made it safely across, there were an equal amount of casualties. We walk down a stretch of road littered with squished bodies, trying to identify specific species amongst the carnage. “Migration is a risky time in an organism’s life” says Professor Lyons, who has been taking students on big night excursions since 2017.  While we won’t be able to save every individual, identifying “superhighways” or roads with mass migration activity gives us the best chance of intervention. 

Professor Lyons parks on the side of the road, leading us on foot down a dirt path. Her green, turtle shell shaped backpack makes her easy to follow. We walk quickly, right on time for the main event. As we approach the vernal pool and shine our headlamps, spotted salamanders and wood frogs can be seen scattering under the closest leaf, hiding for safety. But, after a few minutes of stillness, they emerge. It’s a special sight, at least a dozen spotted salamanders wriggling around in the shallow water, with more appearing the longer you look. There are audible gasps and excited comments, followed by a well-intentioned “Shut up!”

A barn owl hoots in the distance as the magical night comes to a close. Around 10pm, it was time to head back to campus. We were soaked from the rain, and the amphibians had to do, well, whatever amphibians do when the headlamps go dark. “We’re saving lives, one salamander at a time” says Leo Hallagan with a smile. 

Though anyone can participate in big night activities, it’s best to go with an established organization to avoid mating disruption and destruction to habitat.  Being a responsible steward of the environment means treading as lightly as possible and evaluating your intentions to assure your contribution is more helpful than harmful. The Harris Center is an excellent resource for getting involved with crossing brigade programs, and for education on amphibians native to New Hampshire.