At first I checked the regular basking spot of an old friend. Slightly disappointed not to find her out I moved on the scene of Monday's spectacle. In the exact spot of their intimate encounter I found the same female basking.
I continued my walk around the area seeing nothing but a couple of lizards until, just before I had completed my little round there was the old friend I had missed, accompained by a small male. Unfortunately this was in a highly unexpected spot and accordingly I had stumbled about with less than optimal stealth, sending her off in the opposite direction as a result.
She moved neither far nor fast though, so I decided to stick around and wait for another round of action. Whereas on Monday the surroundings had forced me to stand somewhat awkwardly the whole time here I could sit and relax. After assuring myslef there were no anthills in the immediate vicinity I sat down in the grass amidst the trees.
The male began cruising, searching for his lost love. At first I could still see the female a little further away but she soon disappeared from my sight. The male moved in and out of sight but I could constantly hear the rustling of leaves on the forest floor as he slid through them.
A little later the same sound coming from behind me as well. I turned my head only to see another, slightly larger male who seemed to have also picked up the scent of the lovely lady. Now I was looking forward to a fight between the two but that never happened. Shortly after passing by me at a distance of about ½ meter the secomd male male turned in the wrong direction. It seemed he was following the trail of the female in the wrong direction – back towards her usual basking spot.
I turned my attention back towards what happened in front of me where the first male was still cruising. After a short while I could neither see nor hear him anymore and started to wonder where he had gone. Scanning the area I then discovered he had found her and they had already begun mating.
Where at first they were more or less out in the open where I had a reasonable view gradually they moved just a little further back, into the shade beneath the low hanging branches and behind the wilted ferns.
As I sat there watching them I heard the second male slithering across the forest floor behind me once again. By now he had gotten the direction right and was headed past me in a beeline for the mating couple. Of course, I was quite curious what would happen when he reached them.
Nothing, it proved. When he realized the seat was taken he just continued on across the couple, made a turn and headed back in my direction... and that's not in my general direction but in my exact direction
When I raised my camera to take another picture of him 10 cm from my feet he reacted to my movement and turned right. He soon came back though. It seemed I was sitting in the middle of a path he was intent on following. This time he was headed for my behind and while I may be comfortable with venomous snakes casually cruising around my feet when I am trying to direct my attention in another direction I do prefer keeping them at a safety distance of at least some 10-20 cm from my butt so I felt forced to gently shoo him off. This worked fine, except that he came back a minute later. The third time around he had learned his lesson and swirved around in front of me crossing the tip of my shoe on his way before he headed back in the direction he had first come from about an hour earlier
I was now free to turn my attention once again towards the couple in front of me. Soon after, the female began to move quietly through the forest, towing him along.
I don't know why she suddenly took off but I am fairly certain I was not the cause of it. Whatever the cause when she came to a halt they were much more out in the open giving me a better chance to photograph them.
After a few more minutes of action they were done and he moved on his way. It had been a quickie of a mere 55 minutes as opposed to the 65+ minutes (they were still at it when I left) on Monday.
”I'll call you!”
Basking in the afterglow
.
