Life is struggle. Sex. Death.
It’s true across nature. It’s especially true for a newt.
Most of the time, California newts live quiet, hidden lives in the forest.
But every winter – and newts can live for 20 years – they experience an uncontrollable
urge. It’s called water drive.
They leave the safety of their burrows to go mate. They begin a treacherous odyssey,
a migration back to the pond in which they were born.
It begins with a hormone called prolactin, the same one that helps women produce breast
milk. In newts, prolactin sparks a need to become aquatic.
Water could be miles away, like three miles. That’s the equivalent of 36 miles for you
and me. Scientists don’t know for sure, but some think newts use their sense of smell
to help guide them.
And they only have one real defense against snakes hiding in the brush: their skin. It’s
covered in a poison strong enough to kill a person... if you ate one.
Newts’ yellow eyes and belly tell predators to stay away.
But poison isn’t always enough to protect them.
Many never make it.
As they move toward water, newts’ skin starts to lose its bumps and becomes smooth.
Their long tails flatten into fins.
Their amphibian bodies transform from terrestrial to aquatic, to prepare for a mating frenzy.
The male newt bulks up, grows thick pads on its feet, perfect for clamping onto a female.
The word is “amplexus” – Latin for “embrace,” which is one word for it.
Newts can stay like this for hours, or days.
The result: egg clusters that females lay in the pond, so many eggs that newts
sometimes eat a few for extra protein.
The ones that survive will grow into larvae
and stay in the water for several months, transforming into adults. In the fall, they’ll
leave the pond.
And then, if they’re lucky, they’ll come back here, again, and again, and again.
Or at least, they’ll try.