Sing, sing a song

It doesn’t take much to make me happy.   Sitting on my porch and listening to the sounds of the woods makes me happy.  This activity is not one my oldest friend and travelling partner cares much for, because she is afraid she might hear the screech of Bigfoot in the background.  Sorry, dear friend.  I had to get that in somewhere.

My house sits on property with two ponds and a creek running through it.  With so much water around it is understandable that frogs are in abundance.  There are bullfrogs that can rattle the windows when they croak, their bass tones lower than any human voice on the register.  These and the other water frogs I cannot name must be invisible.  I can hear them, but I never see them.  I have no idea how big they are, or what color because they always hide just below the surface of the water when I go out to find them. 

My favorite are the tree frogs; Bird Voiced, Gray, Green, Squirrel and Spring Peepers.  Together with the water frogs they create a symphony with their unusual cadence, all joining in harmony, building to a crescendo and then trailing away to quietness for a few seconds until they are ready to begin the next movement.  Mostly the frog song is a signal, telling me it will soon be spring.  Their song is like a lullaby soothing my worries and calming my spirit.  They remind me the pleasant days of spring are near, short lived as they may be.  They chirrup to me that warm evenings are coming, nights pleasant enough to sit on the porch and listen to the free concert.

Unlike the water frogs the Green tree frogs are quite visible.  They cling by their suckered toes to my windows and glass doors on warm evenings.  They take advantage of the light from within the house and use it as their trap to capture their dinner of small flies and mosquitos that are drawn to the light.  These tiny green creatures tend to be my favorite.  I am easily amused by their white, squishy bellies pressed against the glass as they slowly creep along in search of prey.  I have to open and close the door quickly, or they will leap inside.  They are so quick. 

I, however, am not amused when froggy goes a’courtin’ and chirps all night outside my window.  He has lost his lease more than once for this behavior.  My son thought I was crazy when I trapped the love-struck froggy in a bowl and released him far from the house.  I thought I was being humane.  Froggy just laughed at my folly and found his way back the next night for a repeat performance.

A few years ago I had some ducks and our frog population diminished.  Apparently frog eggs and tadpoles are a delicacy to a duck’s palette.  But this spring they are back in full force, at least for the time being.  Now I have two geese who spend the majority of their time bottoms up in the pond or dabbling up and down the ditch that runs between the two ponds.  I suspect geese have a taste for frog as well.  I know they have a taste for fingers as evident by the Band-Aid my son was sporting the other day.  I guess only time will tell what effect the geese will have on the frog population, but for now the song is strong.  And that makes me happy.