We tend to think of spring as that singular wild awakening of nature but I am here to add to that. Every season has its awakenings and at the Farmersville/Jackson Twp. Pond, yesterday was one of those days.
As Mom and I walked the track, and as we approached the pond from the northwest, she stopped look at something on the red-stained asphalt track. This is what she saw:
This tiny bullfrog, a perfect replica on the monstrosities that line the bank and give such low bellows in the summer, was crossing the track and moving away from the pond. A rare rain had fallen just an hour before and I suppose it was that rain that was the impetus for the exodus.
Why are they leaving the water's edge? How far away will they go? Are they preparing for winter's start? These are bullfrogs, of course, and not common woodland toads.
Here's a closer look at another toad. As tiny as they are - mere dime-sized specs - they are perfect replicas even at this early age. I would think this is this year's eggs, this season's tadpoles. In the months since they were spawned in the frigid water, they have grown to 3/4 of an inch on average.
That cool rain must have sent them moving, away from water's edge to ... where? In the course of our walk around the pond's edge, we counted a dozen. They'd hop if our steps came too close. I tried to pick up one and move him from the track but he'd have none of that. He must have leaped ten times his height!
And so nature goes on,. creating, adding. All the while hidden from popular view. Nature is always generating, always increasing. I have wet knees to prove that the miracles of nature were today beneath our very feet.
