I sometimes wake up in the night, and I hear their sing-a-longs through my open window, and can't help but giggle.
When I was young and growing up in the country, there were no frogs. The farmers around us, and we ourselves, emptied our toilets and washing machines straight into the waterways, which were practically dead.
Thankfully things changed, helped by laws, and slowly but surely the waterway wildlife improved from the 1980s onwards.
We knew there were frogs in the waterways of the municipal forest at the back of our house. But would they come to visit our pond?
Well today, four years after my husband dug it, we have counted 24 frogs having a wild party amongst our pond forget-me-nots.
Our cat Viggo sits watching them with fascination for hours. He takes the occasional swipe at the nearest one, and all frogs dive for cover underneath the water plants. But it won't take them long to resurface again, and their concert starts anew.
There is one emerald green frog in the pond, and this one I haven't spotted yet. He is different from the other brownish-greenish ones. His head and body are longer and thinner, and his eyes are more yellow, and he is almost iridescently green. He has the habit of sunning himself on a waterlily leaf, almost as if he invites me to admire his beauty. He doesn't socialize with the other frogs.
|One of the common frogs.|
Have a good look. What is that green thing on the stone over there? Yes, it's our
He (or she, but I've got a feeling he's a he) is trying to get the Japanese stone frog
interested in his song.