Harvard residents know the signs. Every spring, those bright yellow “Salamander Crossing” placards appear along wooded roads around town, and most of us smile, slow down for a moment, and move on. But how many of us actually know what’s happening beneath our headlights on a rainy May night?
This week’s “Tails from Town” column provides an answer to that question. Julie Gowel and the experts she spoke with from Mass Audubon’s Wachusett Meadows and Drumlin Farm sanctuaries paint a picture of a hidden world that surfaces briefly each spring, when spotted salamanders, wood frogs, and nearly a dozen other species make their annual migration from upland forests to vernal pools to breed. The window is narrow, the stakes are high, and the roads are deadly.
The state agrees. MassWildlife’s Division of Fisheries and Wildlife issued its annual advisory this spring asking residents to drive cautiously on rainy nights when temperatures are above 40 degrees and, whenever possible, to skip the drive altogether.
The town might also ask harder questions of itself. The “Salamander Crossing” signs are charming, but charm doesn’t move animals safely across pavement. Other communities have installed culverts and drift fences at high-mortality crossing points. Has Harvard mapped its most dangerous road segments? Is the Conservation Commission tracking where local populations are most at risk?
There’s also something every resident can do right now. The bulletin asks anyone who spots a state-listed rare species—the blue-spotted or Jefferson salamander among them—to photograph it, note the location, and report it to MassWildlife’s Natural Heritage program. Citizen science costs nothing and directly informs conservation decisions.
But perhaps the most useful advice comes from Tia Pinney, senior naturalist at Drumlin Farm, who told Gowel that “one of the best things we can do is nothing.” In a town that loves to problem-solve, that’s worth sitting with. Sometimes protecting what’s already here simply means getting out of the way.