Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: folklore, latin, literature, lizards, reptiles, science, top ten
One of my secret, silly passions in life is the history of biology, and from that rich and varied history, one of my favorite parts is the medieval bestiary. For those of you who have never seen one, a bestiary was a richly illustrated textbook somewhere between Animal Planet and Sunday School. Illustrations of animals would be accompanied by text that described, in greater or lesser detail, their natural history, and what religious lessons could be drawn from these animals and their lives: Pelicans, for example, said to feed their young on their own blood, represented the incredible mercy and self-sacrifice of Christ, while serpents, of any kind, generally represented the devil.
Now, medieval bestiaries were written by monks, who very rarely got into the fresh air, and while they might have been fairly familiar with the habits of common barnyard dogs and cats, they had to take a little license and a lot of faith when describing animals they had never seen; like crocodiles, elephants and giraffes. Understandably, they didn’t always get things right: while we might, today, associate the giraffe with the fabulous camelopard, it’s a far cry from its description today, and no one has yet found a living unicorn or (my personal favorite) bonnacon.
That being said, sometimes natural history has a way of sneaking back on you and asserting itself in the strangest of medieval legends. Take the following passage from Isidore of Seville (my very rough translation follows, and better classicists than me are invited to tell me that I have failed).
Amphisbaena dicta, eo quod duo capita habeat, unum in loco suo, alterum in cauda, currens ex utroque capite, tractu corporis circulato. Haec sola serpentium frigori se committit […] Cuius oculi lucent veluti lucernae.
Etymologies, Book 12
It is said of the Amphisbaena that it is a serpent with two heads, one in its proper place, the other on the tail. It can run in the direction of either head, moving its body in a circular motion. This is the only snake able to live in the cold. His eyes shine like lamps.
Like I said, I’m no classicist, and the translation is a pretty rough one. (I know enough to get the gist of a text, not enough to stake my life on knowing what it says.) But, what’s interesting is that there’s a real-life beast called an amphisbaenian, named after the mythological monster.
And while they don’t look exactly like their medieval counterparts, they are more similar than you might think. We’re going to take a look at one particularly unique member of the group. So, by all means, read on to find out more. Continue reading
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: lizards, reptiles, science, snakes, top ten
I will admit that I am a sucker for snakes. They’re fascinating, they’re venomous (at least some), they’re beautiful, they’re diverse, they’ve invaded a huge variety of habitats and occupy a surprisingly large niche space, they have a great mythological association; basically, snakes are pretty darned cool animals, and they managed this huge extent of awesome all without legs. I actually gave a presentation in my evolutionary developmental biology class yesterday on how snakes lost their legs, and while I might blog that later, this post is yet another entry in my remarkable reptiles countdown.
And so, today’s post starts with a reminder that snakes aren’t the only lizards that have lost their legs. In fact, leg loss seems to be a common thing in lizards, from the very primitive to the derived. From amphisbaenians to blind lizards to skinks, legless lizards come in all shapes, sizes and phylogenetic contexts. Really, it’s pretty amazing that this trait has evolved so many times over so many groups. It’s a trait that, in legless lizards, at least, seems to have evolved in conjunction with a burrowing lifestyle, although there’s still some pretty heated scientific controversy over whether the earliest snakes lost their limbs in order to become better swimmers or better burrowers (although the developmental and genetic context for that loss is actually pretty well understood; ask me about that sometime).
The lizard above is one of my favorite legless lizards, and it’s a pretty good representative of what a standard-issue legless lizard looks like. He has eyelids and ear openings, unlike a snake, and is a substrate-burrowing insect-eater. (I have to admit, though, his scientific name does tickle my fancy: it literally translates to ‘snake-lizard without legs.’) So, if this boy is ordinary what kind of a legless monster would earn his place on my countdown? Read on to find out about a different kind of legless lizard… Continue reading
Sorry about the late blogging: I work on Wednesdays, and come home late, so the blog takes a bit of a back-seat priority. But, never fear: I still have, uh, forty minutes to write out a blog entry on my eighth remarkable reptile.
So, what do you get if you cross a cobra with a colugo?
|Cobra + Colugo = ?|
The answer, of course, is today’s featured reptile. Read on to find out … Continue reading