The Midnight Croakers

 What they lack in coordination, they make up for in enthusiasm. It is pointless to take a photo there at night, it is just too dark, and anyway it would not convey their zeal. I don't know when I first caught the notes of their evening revels, but it was definitely during one of my night rides, years ago. With houses lining both sides of the street along which I rode I couldn't be sure of what I thought I was hearing. Indeed, and at first, I probably didn't even recognize them for what they were. It just didn't register. And then slowly they came out of the dark - frogs? Those are frogs; and a lot of them I'd guess.

I don't know what kind of frogs they have living over in yonder Chaparral Pond, but apparently both Western Toads and American Bullfrogs live at the nearby Bernard Field Station, so it is probably a good bet that these might be the same sort.

For years I would make a point of riding along Radcliffe at least once, at night, during January / February just to hear the ruckus. Early on I came to recognize where the congregation was taking place mostly, I guess, since the boy went to school at the adjacent elementary (Chaparral) and I had looked past the school yard, peaked through the fence plenty of times, gazed in at their tranquil watery home. I never would have figured the croakers to be so active during the coldest months of the year, but they sure don't seem to be put off by the drop in temperature. Monday night I was riding toward home, the back way, up along Chaparral Drive, when I heard their vociferous party - oh yeah, the frogs. I forgot about the frogs. I hadn't ridden along Radcliffe all winter; nor had I heard them while riding along Chaparral, and so might be forgiven my failure to remember their presence. I made a quick turn into the staff / teacher parking lot and pulled up alongside the fence. The ruckus dropped a level as my headlight momentarily shone out across the inky water. Quickly turning my handlebars away, and with them the beam of light, was all they needed to get back to the fun. 

I have always enjoyed the sounds of this world's night time creatures - the intrusive sounds of modern man and his busy world lessen, fade away, to be replaced by crickets and coyotes, and frogs, remember the frogs. (Incidentally don't attempt to look up Chaparral Pond, it is not a public place you can go and visit. Rather it is a stormwater detention basin on land owned (I guess) by the local water company, filled to various levels at different times of the year. It is nice and pastoral though, a quiet place for the creatures that live there either permanently, or in passing.)