Little Storping-in-the-Swuff: Frogs

They get later every year.

Last Saturday (21st March) frog spawn in the pond. For one day the frogs went absolutely mad.  Burping and croaking and motoring around, showing off to a garden full of humans without a hint of their usual timidity. 

Video to follow!

It’s cold.

There’s about 2″ of ice on the pond. It’s barely even frozen before.

The level’s dropped so I switch on the hose from the water butt. Not much happens… the water’s frozen there too, so it’s probably frozen in the pipe. Eventually a trickle comes through and grows until I can top the pond up properly. The ice on top of the water butt stays where it is as a vacuum forms beneath it…

A few hours later I can still see the thick ice, unmelted, sandwiched between the water above and below. I can see the fish swimming below the ice, and a probably rather confused frog has come in and is swimming across the surface water above the ice. It’s finding it can’t dive, I don’t know if it understands why…

The frog doesn’t look too upset by it, but he’s got a huge extra limb… are my frogs mutating a fifth leg?

Looking after the young…

I stepped out to pick a pear to eat with the stilton and port (that‘s what autumn is all about) and this chap was sitting on the step. I almost trod on him.

Now I have my Nikon D40, I can more readily record how my frogs are the most handsome in Lewes.

Two of them are bellowing to each other this evening.

For the record, I just saw a fish, so there’s at least one of them alive.

My frisky frogs have brought about the most exciting thing to happen in the pond since the baby fish 18 months ago: two great lumps of spawn (the smaller one is pictured).

The frogs were introduced to the pond as spawn themselves two years ago. Disappointingly there was no spawn last year. Meanwhile, there can be no doubt there are no longer any fish in the pond, and while I will reintroduce fish later this year, I shall be waiting until the tadpoles can leave the pond under their own steam.

Well, we’re having interesting weather, what with our tornado. I’ve noticed it raining. A lot. It rained heavily on Sunday. So heavily, I was reluctant to stray out even for parsley (when it eased off, I dashed across the yard to the herb pot – half way there I found I was ankle deep in puddle…)

I opened the backdoor to find even this chap was seeking shelter:

That’s abroad in the sense of “out and about” not in another country.

Although come to think of it, it was another country.

And it’s not a frog, it’s a toad.

This portrait of a fine looking toad I took when I was in Wales last week. He’s pretty hunky, no?

Not a pleasant post, I fear, but in Little Storping we will not shy away from the truth. It’s a barely recognisable dried out husk, looks a little like a leaf, but it moves. Why? If it ever was a frog, there’s no way there can be any life left in it. Are the dead frogs walking?

No, it’s full of maggots. Just for once, I don’t think we’ll have a picture with this post.