Do You Hear That?

If you’ve been following my creative ventures for more than a few weeks, you’ll see that I’m a fanatic about frogs.  It seems that lately nothing has been going according to plan.  Each project has had some failure that created two to three new projects for me to fix.  Each link in the chain was dependent on the completion of the one prior and all down the line there were problems.  Couple with that getting rejection letters on creative ventures, the tortoise eggs I’ve been incubating almost six months were no good, working a ton of mandatory overtime at my job, and you get a recipe for pretty severe burn out and exhaustion.  But then, I heard them.

I’d been waiting on them.  I knew with the temperature rising into the low sixties that they’d likely begin their mating calls.  At first it was faint whisper.  I wasn’t even sure if I was hearing it.  Maybe I’d just imagined the sound.  Then, I drove by a marshy spot near the house and the noise was deafening.  Chorus frogs are out in full force!  They are the first frog species in my area to appear typically.  They usually arrive at the end of January or early February depending on the conditions and temperatures in a given year.  These tiny frogs make a huge sound.

These noisy anurans are the first signs of spring, and are followed by spring peeper frogs, American toads, fowlers toads, leopard frogs, and pickerel frogs.  Usually, once the chorus frogs begin their songs, the other amphibians are within four to six weeks away at most.  Chorus frogs calling also signifies the movement of spotted salamanders.  If you’ve never witnessed a writhing mass of large spotted salamanders during their spring courtship, you’re missing out! 

These amphibians are all late winter or early spring breeders.  They’ve got mechanisms within them that allow them to survive, thrive, and breed when most other reptiles and amphibians are still in a temperature dependent suspended animation in the mud called brumation.  It’s really a marvel they can survive at all during the cold months.  It has always fascinated me.  Even more interesting to me is that so few people know these processes are happening right in their backyards.  These moments are fleeting, and once breeding season is over many amphibians like the salamanders disappear back into their underground haunts. 

So why am I talking about amphibians?  Well, after all of the recent calamity, one thing after another, I heard those frogs.  When I heard them, it changed my entire mood.  They reminded me of who I am to some degree.  I let the reverence wash over me and it allowed me to not care as much about the trivial nonsense I’d been carrying.  They also reminded me that despite the intense adversity many amphibians face, nature finds a way.  Their calls lit a fire of childlike wonder within me, one that seems to come this time of year, every year, as if on schedule.  Mostly, they reignited my soul.

Through all the busyness of day-to-day life, and the ups and downs that come with that, I realized I hadn’t been myself.  Truthfully, it’s been quite a while since I spent time in the woods, grabbed a camera, or really anything that most of you would use to define me.  So, those frogs reminded me that I wasn’t being true to myself, and their song was a rebuke.  I’m not that special.  Nothing I’m doing is THAT important.  So, I don’t have a good excuse not to do the things that give me life; the things that mitigate burnout and fill my cup so to speak.

I took those calling frogs as a challenge to get back out there, I made a few calls and got permission to explore a new wetland habitat I’ve been dying to survey for a decade, and next Tuesday I’ll be going out there.  It’s going to be cold, wet, and miserable.  I literally can’t wait!  There’s just something about that stinking mud at the bottom of a wetland that fills my soul with wonder.  So, if you’re not feeling like you lately, figure out what it will take to get back out there and refill your tank.  The frogs are calling…and I must go.