A newt in the goose pond

The snow melt-water gushes in torrents down the little beck here, bringing with it storm debris and silt, overwhelming and bursting the banks.  Floating on the surface of the goose pond I found a newt, not moving, which I picked up and it sat lifeless in my hand.  Its little body was like ice, then I felt the smallest wriggle and it slowly began to rally.

I’m wondering if it got washed out from a sandy hide-away in the side of the stream, or had just come out to feed as the weather has improved.  Adult Smooth Newts emerge from their overwintering sites in early spring and head to a pond to breed, so perhaps this was its intention.

Its markings were beautiful, quite spotty and glowing orange underneath.  Where its body curved round, its skin wrinkled, I saw the metalic gold sheen of its eyes and the rapid palpating of its throat.  (Amphibians and reptiles don’t have developed diaphragms like mammals, or well developed rib muscles, so they pump air in and out for breathing with their mouth and throat).

I wanted to hold and examine it longer, but knew it needed to be back in the wild, so released it under the cover of a mossy stone and hope all is well.