March 19, 2009
“What is all the racket down by the backyard pond? Are those crickets," I asked one morning this week.
My husband replied, "No, those are your frogs. Remember the tadpoles you bought late last summer from some catalogue pond supply house? They turned into frogs and hibernated all winter. They're back."
"Frogs! The frogs are here," I rejoiced. "How could I possibly forget my frogs?"
Then, I wondered, did those cute little green amphibians hide over winter in the pond muck, or did they spend the winter under brush and leaves?
Wherever they took cover for the winter, I was delighted they came back. After all the Day of the Frogs means that Spring is conclusively, absolutely, and we-are-not-kidding this time, finally here.
Besides, the spring crooning of frogs is delightful, at first.
My delight lasted for three sleepless nights.
Make no mistake about it, these frogs are singing about much more than the return of spring. It is all about love, and the guy frogs are singing their hearts out trying to find the gals.
When the winter air warms, usually in March in the Midwest, the male frog starts to sing and call for a prospective mate or two or three.
I guess that is the point. Perpetuate the species.
Since I was awake anyway due to these love-starved frogs, I did some midnight research about their springtime mating calls. I learned that the sound of the male can carry for long distances and can attract female frogs from miles away.
I sighed with resignation, "Just what we need--more frogs."
As I continued my frog research I learned that the male Spring Peeper is noisier than the Cricket Frog and is said to have the same decibel level as found on airport runways.
Wonderful. I think we have both these critters in our pond plus some of their cousins.
Some frogs in our small backyard pond make a whistling sound; the Cricket Frog chirps like a cricket; and the Peeper says "Peep Peep" like a baby chick.
To make matters worse, the male frogs in our pond have formed a singing group (I call them Froggies 'N Sync), and their combined voices sound like a loud chorus of crickets. The serenade goes on all evening; sometimes well into the morning hours.
The only way I have found to stop their racket is to walk toward the pond. They either jump into the water or become blessedly silent.
Yes, there can be too much of a good thing, even the singing of spring frogs.
On the fourth sleepless night, my husband commented that he sure hoped our new neighbors are not trying to sleep with a window open.
"If they ask about the noisy frogs, better tell them the frogs crawled up from the creek," he said. "Don't tell them you bought them on purpose."
