Category: Restoration

From the Ground Up: Houston Toad Recovery Through Habitat Restoration and Egg Releases

Endangered Houston toads, like this adult, persist in a narrow range in Central Texas, Photo: Zach Truelock

“Within a few weeks, eggs in the water became thousands of tiny toadlets moving out into the landscape,” ARC Private Lands Biologist Zach Truelock said.

Mapping Amphibian and Reptile Protection from Coast to Coast

A close-up of a yellow-spotted salamander, an intriguing amphibian, on a wet, dark stone surface, showing its shiny textured skin and the distinctive yellow patches along its body and head. Perfect for conservancy or ARC projects.

Every region of the United States has its icons. Mountains. Rivers. Foods. Sports teams. But they also have wildlife species that define their character, even if most people never see them.

Farmers as Stewards: Private Lands Conservation for Salamanders and Ecosystems

A large, brown amphibian salamander rests on the rocky bottom of a stream, partially submerged in clear water with sunlight creating patterns on its body—a serene scene highlighting the need for Conservancy efforts.

“What happens on one property does not stop at the fence line. Streams connect neighbors and entire watersheds, and if everyone assumes someone else will take care of them, these systems continue to degrade.”

Staying the Course for Amphibians and Reptiles During the Government Shutdown

A group of eight people in outdoor gear stand smiling under a large green tree, holding an ARC Protects sign, celebrating their work in Amphibian and Reptile conservation. The background features green foliage and a sunny, grassy landscape.

On October 1, 2025, the federal government entered a shutdown after Congress did not pass new funding bills. Many essential services continue, but a large number of federal workers are furloughed and programs are suspended.

Where Restoration Meets Recovery: Protecting Amphibians and Reptiles in the Florida Panhandle

Tall, slender pine trees stand in a misty forest with grass and low plants covering the ground. The fog creates a soft, muted atmosphere, evoking the tranquil beauty protected by ARC, the Amphibian and Reptile Conservancy.

“It’s challenging and overwhelming at first, but the visual, quantifiable results are really satisfying, not to mention vital for the wildlife here.” That’s how Nicole Dahrouge, ARC Project Coordinator, described restoring habitats in the PARCAs (Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Areas) of Florida’s Panhandle.

Safeguarding the Symphony: Protecting Common Species While They’re Still Common

A close-up of a small, dark brown baby snapping turtle—a fascinating reptile—with a rough, textured shell, open mouth, and bright eye, crawling on rocky ground with green grass in the background.

Ecosystems are like symphonies, each species like an instrument. Some are bold and loud; others are subtle and quiet.

In conservation efforts, imperiled species tend to be the soloists, getting all the attention. But common species are the percussion, strings, and winds. If we lose them, the music is no longer harmonious.

Year of the Snake: Scaling Up Protections for Declining Snake Populations

A slender, black and turquoise striped reptile is coiled on sandy ground with scattered green grass and a brown leaf nearby, highlighting the unique species that ARC Conservancy works to protect.

In the traditional Chinese calendar, this year corresponds with the snake, which symbolizes good fortune, intelligence, and procreation. Beyond the symbolism, all of these things are needed to safeguard the future of these incredible animals in the Year of the Snake.

When it comes to their good fortune, increasing awareness and changing perceptions would go a long way toward improving their luck.

Notes from the Field: Resilience and Progress for Amphibians and Reptiles in 2024

A close-up of a person holding a small reptile turtle between their fingers. The turtle has a dark shell with orange markings and is looking upward. The person's fingers have visible dirt under the nails. The background is blurred greenery.

If 2024 were a field notebook, it would be full of insightful observations, data on our progress, a couple crossed-out mishaps, and a note scratched in the margin: ‘Keep going even when times are tough–we’re onto something big.’
This year, together with you and the rest of our partners, we made remarkable strides in protecting some of the nation’s most threatened amphibians and reptiles. From high mountain bogs to coastal wetlands, our team worked tirelessly to restore habitats, headstart vulnerable species (captive raise and release them), and engage communities.
Our field journal this year includes records from our teams on the ground in PARCAs (Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Areas) from Arizona to Virginia.

What We Know–and Don’t–About Helene’s Impacts on Reptiles and Amphibians

An underwater view of a large, brown amphibian salamander with a long tail resting among rocks and pebbles on a streambed. The water is clear, revealing variously sized stones and sandy patches.

Millions of people across the Southeastern US are coming together to begin to overcome the impacts of Helene.
And it’s this joining of forces that’s going to be critical for our recovery. No one can do it alone. The uniting of communities and collaboration among government agencies, nonprofits, and other groups are going to be imperative to start healing from the damages that we’ve sustained, both in terms of human losses and also the casualties of our wildlife and wild places.

Lessons from a Tanzanian Toad’s Extinction for the Amphibians and Reptiles of the US

A juvenile axolotl with feathery gills swims in shallow water above submerged dry grass or reeds, its face looking toward the camera—an inspiring sight for any Conservancy or ARC project dedicated to amphibian and reptile habitats.

In the words of Maya Angelou, “You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated.” It’s in this spirit of perseverance that we resolve to apply the critical lessons learned from the extinction of the Kihansi spray toad from the wild in Tanzania to imperiled amphibians and reptiles in the US.

Busy Beavers: Bringing Back Dam-Building Rodents to Protect Amphibians and Reptiles

A green and black spotted frog sits on the ground among moss, grass, and leaves at the ARC Conservancy, blending in with its natural surroundings.

Beavers are trains with teeth. You may know that trains were historically one of the biggest forces behind the expansion of industry and development in the US, and as a result, redefined the country’s landscape. Before trains, it was North American beavers.

Moment in the Sun: Species’ Summer Adaptations Provide Ways to Protect Them

A reptile with a dark gray body and reddish tail climbs on rocky terrain, blending into the surroundings. Its head is slightly raised as it rests on uneven stone surfaces, showcasing the adaptive skills of this remarkable ARC species.

The sun has moved to its highest position in the sky this year. We’ve experienced the day with the longest period of daylight and the shortest night of the year. All of this can only mean one thing: it’s summertime in the US. 

Even Armored Species Need Protection: Conserving the Turtles of the US

A close-up of a reptile tortoise eating grass in a natural, grassy area under a cloudy sky. The tortoise’s shell and textured skin are clearly visible.

“It’s hard not to instantly fall in love with bog turtles. They have such big personalities for such small turtles. I could sit there and watch one all day,” said Emilly Nolan, ARC Southern Appalachians Program Coordinator.

Protecting Alabama’s Ancient Wild Legacy in the Bankhead PARCA

A calm river flows beside a tall, rocky cliff covered in green vegetation, with trees and bushes lining the top and right side. The water reflects the greenery and rocks, offering an ideal habitat for amphibians under a bright sky.

In the Bankhead PARCA (Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Area) of Alabama, about an hour northwest of Birmingham, two incredibly specialized species share the region’s numerous aquatic habitats: the flattened musk turtle and the Black Warrior waterdog. These two highly endangered

2023: Tipping Point for Amphibians and Reptiles Throughout the United States

A turtle sits in a muddy, shallow pool surrounded by tall grass in a wetland area, part of an ARC Conservancy, with trees lining the horizon under a partly cloudy sky.

2023 was a banner year for protecting amphibians and reptiles across the US, and thanks to our incredible community, 2024 is shaping up to be even more impactful.

Recovering the Chiricahua Leopard Frog for Generations to Come

Close-up view of an amphibian’s face, highlighting its textured brown skin and striking yellow-black patterned eyes with horizontal slit pupils.

If you think you hear snoring near a forest stream or wetland in Arizona or New Mexico in the spring or early summer, chances are you’re actually hearing the call of a Chiricahua leopard frog. These olive to dark green frogs—with their charcoal-colored spots, stocky bodies, and distinctive calls—are an iconic species of our Gila PARCA (Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Area) and Cochise PARCAs.

Hope in the Face of the Latest Research on Amphibian Declines

A person with a beard and gray t-shirt gently holds a reptile in one hand and uses tweezers with the other, sitting outdoors among dry leaves and branches—showcasing careful conservancy in action.

A study released on October 4 (Luedtke et al., 2023) contains some bad news for amphibians; they are still the most threatened group of vertebrates on Earth. It’s easy to feel less than hopeful when reading Luedtke et al.’s (2023) study, which provides a global assessment of the conservation status of amphibians.

Cochise PARCAs: Conserving the Southwest’s Biological Richness

A brown frog with dark spots sits partially submerged in murky water among green aquatic plants and algae at the conservancy. Its legs are stretched out, and its body blends with the muddy, plant-filled surroundings.

Although southern Arizona is often associated with harsh heat and dry deserts, the area’s biodiversity stands as a testament to a beautifully rich landscape. With flashes of bright orange and yellow, western tanagers fly among mountaintop trees. Cottonwood and desert willow trees grow along lush wetlands. Apache trout swim in cold, high-elevation streams. Montezuma quail roam the pine-oak woodlands. Desert cottontails and Sonoran Desert tortoises traverse the sands and brush of the desert vistas dotted with iconic saguaro cacti. Jaguars even inhabit Cochise County.

In terms of herpetofauna or “herps” (reptiles and amphibians), this area–encompassing the Chihuahuan Desert to the east and the Sonoran Desert to the west and all the habitat in between–is unparalleled. In most US states, we’re focused on protecting between twenty and forty herp species. In Arizona, our two Cochise PARCAs (Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Areas), Cochise East and West, each boast more than forty herp species.

Gopher Frog Recovery: At the Edge of a Precipice

A camouflaged amphibian with mottled brown and green skin sits on the ground among grass and twigs, partially hidden by surrounding vegetation.

On a hot summer afternoon in the Francis Marion Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Area (PARCA), Coastal Plains Program Coordinator Ben Morrison and Assistant Field Project Manager Sydney Sheedy drive down a bumpy dirt road surrounded by longleaf pine trees. They’re heading to Sunset Pond, a not-even-on-the-map ephemeral wetland that represents one of the last healthy few of its kind in the forest, unchoked by invasive species and still reliably filling with water for part of the year.

Heeding the Call: Conservation of the Houston Toad

A brown amphibian toad sits on a bed of dry pine needles, blending in with its natural surroundings. Some green leaves are visible nearby, with the background appearing dark and out of focus.

If we could step back in time to the end of the 19th century on a warm spring evening in eastern Texas, we’d be transported to a picturesque landscape. The countryside was dominated by grasses and short plants, dotted with clumps of trees. This unique and beautiful ecosystem, which has largely been lost, is called Post Oak Savannah. It’s a transition zone between the longleaf systems of the southeast and the grasslands of central Texas.

A spring night in the past would’ve also likely been punctuated by a chorus of the peaceful trills of the Houston toad. Today, the toad’s calls are becoming harder and harder to hear as its populations dwindle. This small toad species (about two or three inches long) with a perpetual frown and warty skin splattered with orange and brown splotches is holding out in the pockets of habitat that remain.

Bounty of Habitats for Rare Species: Protecting & Restoring the Francis Marion PARCA

Three people stand in a wet, grassy area of a forest managed by the Conservancy, with one person bending down to examine the water—perhaps searching for a reptile. Tall trees and dry grass surround them under natural daylight.

Bounty of Habitats for Rare Species: Protecting & Restoring the Francis Marion PARCA Outside Charleston, South Carolina stretches the Francis Marion National Forest–a 259,000-acre classic Lowcountry spread of upland forest, bottomland hardwood swamp, maritime forest, salt marsh, and longleaf pine forest.

Restoring a Desert Oasis to Bolster Narrow-Headed Garter Snake Populations

A brown, non-venomous reptile with dark markings is coiled on a reddish, weathered stone surface. The snake’s slender body and visible scales stand out, highlighting its role in the local conservancy efforts.

Have you slept in a tent alone—a tent
Out under the desert sky—
Where a thousand thousand desert miles
All silent round you lie?—
The dust of the aeons of ages dead,
And the peoples that trampled by?
Have you looked in the desert’s painted cup,
Have you smelled at dawn the wild sage musk,
Have you seen the lightning flashing up
From the ground in the desert dusk?

Recovering the Frosted Flatwoods Salamander

A small, curled black and white reptile with a pattern of stripes and spots on its body lies on wet, muddy ground—a unique sight often noted by ARC Conservancy field researchers.

Longleaf pine ecosystems once blanketed the Southeast, covering over ninety million acres from Texas to Virginia. Many varied species, from red-cockaded woodpeckers and quail to eastern diamondback rattlesnakes and dusky gopher frogs, evolved to live among the frequently burning, grassy, sun-soaked savannas.

Combating Invasives to Give Native Species Back Their Competitive Edge

A calm pond reflects the blue sky and clouds, surrounded by sparse vegetation, leafless trees, and low hills—an ideal habitat for an amphibian basking under a bright, clear sky.

When you visit a new country, chances are you don’t want to eat at the same burger chain you have near your house, buy your souvenirs at a big box store from the US, and go to an American movie. You want to experience the cuisine, hear the language, and see the art that that particular country offers because those things reveal the fabric of a place’s history and culture.

We can use this concept to understand native ecosystems and invasive species. Just like you can find American burger chains around the world, there aren’t many ecosystems left that haven’t been impacted by invasive species. As humans have spread across the globe, we’ve taken all sorts of species with us—from house cats to flowers to reptiles—and put them where they didn’t historically occur. That has caused problems for our native species (the locals, if you will), and we are at risk of homogenizing our ecosystems and losing the icons of our natural diversity.

Protecting Our Natural Heritage in the Southern Appalachians

A scenic view of forested mountains under a partly cloudy sky, with a layer of white fog settled in the valleys—an ideal habitat for reptile and amphibian species, protected by local conservancy efforts.

Author Barbara Kingsolver best captured the spirit of the Southern Appalachians when she said, “the flag of Appalachia should be a salamander.” For many, these mountains are embodied by a cool mountain creek, where every rock flip reveals a salamander. In fact, the Southern Appalachian Mountains—including parts of West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Georgia—contain some of the most important places for amphibian and reptile conservation in the world. Within the ridges, valleys, and streams are dozens of habitat types supporting a vast number of imperiled species that need our help, from our smallest turtle to the heaviest salamander in North America.

Conservation in the Land of Enchantment’s Gila PARCA

A rocky stream flows through a canyon with sparse trees and green patches. Two people hike in the distance under a partly cloudy sky, exploring rugged terrain rich in reptile habitats and cared for by a local conservancy.

Deep in the heart of the New Mexico desert, something unexpected arises from the drylands–mountain ranges teeming with life. These sky islands are home to some of the most biodiverse habitats in the world. That’s why ARC has designated one such area in the western part of the state dubbed the Land of Enchantment as a Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Area, or PARCA. It’s known as the Gila (pronounced hee-luh) PARCA. It is located in the area surrounding and including Silver City, New Mexico on the ancestral lands of the Chiricahua (pronounced chr-uh-kaa-wuh) Apache Nation.

The formation of sky islands is a story rooted in the geologic history of our world. Around 20,000 years ago, what’s now the deserts of the southwest flourished with greenery and water. As the climate began to warm, creating the deserts we know today, plant and wildlife species became stranded and isolated in these high-elevation mountain ranges where they continued to evolve in an array of habitats.

Thinking Bigger: Coordinated Place-Based Conservation in PARCAs

A shallow river with patches of green aquatic plants flows between dense, leafy trees under a clear blue sky. Sunlight reflects off the water, while this thriving habitat supports amphibian life within the lush vegetation of the conservancy.

To conserve wildlife and wild places across the U.S., together, we must answer the call to act collectively and consider the big picture. At ARC, we think beyond individual animals and individual species. Even as we recognize and celebrate the unique importance of each flattened musk turtle in Alabama and each Chiricahua leopard frog in New Mexico, we never stop thinking about the broader ecosystem context in which these creatures exist because that holds the key to their future. Amphibians and reptiles face an incredibly diverse set of threats across the country, from habitat loss and fragmentation to disease and persecution. If we want to slow their declines, we have to prioritize the most important areas where they are found and build healthy ecosystems and populations in those places.

That’s why our conservation strategy is place-based. It rests on identifying and working in what we call Priority Amphibian and Reptile Conservation Areas, or PARCAs. We have identified hundreds of such places all over the country that stretch from the Southern Appalachians to the Southeastern coastal plains, across the heartland prairies to the deserts of the Southwest, and up to the Pacific Northwest.

Small Turtles, Big Future: Southern Population of the Bog Turtle

A small black baby turtle with light markings on its face walks on pale green, mossy ground at the Conservancy, with soft sunlight filtering through blurred foliage in the background.

When we think about the future for the bog turtle, Glyptemys muhlenbergii, we should first consider the past. If we could hit rewind, and look back in time—millions of years back in time—there would be a vast stretch of land full of muddy bogs and fens, from upstate New York down to Georgia. Within those grassy, flooded meadows fed by springs would have hidden thousands upon thousands of one of our favorite reptiles in the world: the bog turtle.

When they are born, bog turtles are the size of a quarter. As adults, they’re only four inches. They are mysterious and secretive, spending most of their time buried in mud. Everything about them encapsulates a slow and steady approach to life; they reach sexual maturity late, lay only a few eggs a year, and can live for at least sixty years. Some of the older individuals have shells as smooth as glass, worn down from years of burrowing in the habitat for which evolution shaped them over the course of fifteen million years.

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