This cute little snake is common throughout much of the western U.S., but I had somehow managed to avoid seeing one for my entire life up to this point. My wife and I were hiking with our friends John and Brenda McCaffrey in the gorgeous red rock country near their Sedona home. I lifted an old dried hunk of yucca and saw a scorpion crouched below. Everyone came over to see the scorpion when John spotted this little snake trying to discreetly glide back into the hunk of yucca I was holding up.

Then while I was trying to coax the snake into sitting still for a photo, Brenda saw a rock move. Only it wasn't a rock, it was a rock lobster! Well, actually it was a short-horned lizard. So it all goes to show that you should be sure to stop and smell the scorpions. Or something like that.

Night snakes, being (surprise!) nocturnal, are not usually seen on the surface by the light of the day. This one was under a flat sandstone rock, and only reluctantly stayed on the surface for a few photos.

After two nights of road-cruising for snakes in which I had failed to see a single live snake, my luck began to turn when I found a small nightsnake crossing the road. Within an hour or so I also saw two young glossy snakes. Not a very good night for snakes at Anza-Borrego, but a big improvement over none at all.

The taxonomy of this species is muddled. Some authorities, including the redoubtable Stebbins, don't split it into any subspecies. And of the authorities that do list subspecies, some would place this individual in H. t. klauberi, some in H. t. deserticola, some in H. t. nuchalata, and some would probably make up a new name just to see if anyone noticed. Since I'm following the SSAR names, I'm calling it H. t. deserticola.