This Curious Frog

Water Plantain around vernal pool

It’s been weeks since I’ve walked these waters—the flattened remnant of what had been the old farm’s pond, now shallow and holding water only until late summer, when August heat dries it, and weeds fill its basin with growth.
This year, though, frequent spells of rain, broken only by days that have given us “the coolest July on record” have kept it well-filled—almost toppling over the rim of my boots, as I walk a slow arc, past the thick green stems, the ring broken only in a few places by the paths of muskrats crossing to the surrounding fields from their burrow on the bank beside me.


The lives of the water have left it now—
salamanders and frogs hatching from eggs left here in great floating masses on the first warm nights of spring, have walked away—
on new legs, to lives on land.

Baby Tree Frog, newly emerged

Just a few of the very last to use this small pool linger now, at the edge.
Tiny Tree Frogs, some still with a vestige of tadpole tail, have found safety in the thick green of the ring.
And glow like enameled jewels against green leaves.
Barely half an inch long, minuscule fingers of glass,
even so small, the padded toe reaches and grasps--climbing carefully.
I so love this curious frog.

baby Cope's Gray Tree Frog

Check out the color!
(all photos click to enlarge)

The Child Inside

Tree Frog

The decal on the front door said it clearly.
The child inside waits for Ranger Rick.


Every month, through its glossy pages, to explore the natural world, from a cozy armchair or a corner of her bedroom. The young girl saw many things, and fell in love with the world beyond her door.



Raggedy Ann and Andy, button eyes and hand-stitched faces, watched from the doll bed across the room, their floppy bodies propped against the rough, sand-painted walls. While toads or snails in glass boxes—playmates for rainy days indoors, otherwise alone, looked on.




Perhaps the mailman would also bring her Highlights.
And the hidden pictures within.
Amusement page by page, in the simplest of black line drawings.



Is it any wonder, she still takes long walks, looking?
When there are always hidden treasures to find.

Katydid on Goldenrod

Camera shy

This weekend has brought us long-overdue sunshine and warmth.
And, finally, days to go walking and watching.
But, try as I might to catch more than a glimpse--the leafy woods hide them well.

A Great Blue Heron flaps off clumsily from the pond, toward the woods--no doubt, I have disturbed his frog breakfast, as I approach.
On the bank, a muddy trail is the only evidence that Mama muskrat was here, just moments ago, gathering greens for her kits. She hits the water with a PLOP. Deep swirls disturb the surface.
Above me in the apple tree, a White-eyed Vireo dances from branch to branch gleaning insects.




The shadowy shapes of five snapping turtles have gathered in the shallow arm of water. They see surprisingly well--and vanish instantly, as I stand watching. In the woods, a thin gray shape leaves quietly. The coyote, perhaps, not used to my being here. The last weeks of rain have kept me away more than I like. He must think these trails are his own.

A Field Sparrow is feeding her family this morning.

Hidden in the tall growth beneath the small oaks, they answer her calls. I see nothing but the slightest movement in the grass, as they find each other--and she flies up and away for more.

The tree frogs are calling loudly from Little Pond pool. This wet spring pleases them.

On its surface, damsel flies catching the morning sunlight.


And a Yellow-breasted Chat calling from across the field.
Maybe another day's watching will find him.
Maybe not.

Cope's Gray Tree Frogs

Nearly the only residents not camera shy today.

The circle of life

The parade continues.
To the waters, another wave of life.

Tonight-- the tree frogs. And, as several peepers still cry out, though their numbers are far fewer now, five Cope's Gray Tree frogs gather, plump pads on long toes wrapping small stems just above the water's surface, and voice short raspy calls into a warm spring evening.



This pool, in the weeks I have been watching, has shown me, each day, change.



Its creatures, developing in the transparency of water.
Their lives transforming behind nothing more than gelatin--a womb with a view.
Peering into their world--until, the spark of life within, looks back at you.

Where, 52 days earlier, their parents returned to this ancestral pool,
the next generation of Spotteds enters the world.

Spotted Salamander eggs, 4-14-08
21 days

Spotted Salamander eggs, 4-21-08
28 days

Spotted Salamander eggs, 4-24-08
31 days
hatching

Can you find the Jefferson Salamander larva
swimming at the surface in the small image of Wood Pool?
(Look for green-tipped gills!)