Frogsongs in February
A cold February afternoon and the ponds are, thankfully, silent. A watchful, but frogless, heron took off as I arrived. Friends have seen them taking frogs already this year - from ponds in those warmer garden microclimates "just down the road" but here in this hollow of the hills on the edge of town, the cold still holds them all, frogs, toads and newts, asleep.
But it IS February and further south and lower down, the frogs have started moving, the Toadwatchers of the Toad Patrols are polishing their boots and filing road closure requests (and getting national headlines!). Here I just hope the cold holds for a few weeks more: too often in recent years, there is a flurry of early wakefulness, and a hasty spawning before March snow or late frosts interrupts everything....
But it IS February and there have been those mornings when I wake up and the world smells full of the promise of frogsong and jellied spawn....
FROGSONG
Gordon MacLellan
It is March and
This morning held a cold smell of spring
Of frogsong and wonder.
Reflections of blue skies and
Willow trees are
Broken by the weeds that break
The pond’s mirror.
There is movement,
A small turning, splashing
Disturbance,
But there is no-one to see.
The wind across the water
Traces deceptive arrows
And by the far bank,
A bigger movement
Sends a ripple, a wave spreading outwards
But still there is no cause to see,
No culprit to celebrate.
The pool settles again,
And me, I rest
Here on the grass, watching.
It is March and
I am still hoping for frogs.
NOTES
Frogsong was published as "A Pond in March"in Froglife's Autumn/Winter 2-024 edition of Natterchat
Froglife organises the national Toads on Roads initiative: https://www.froglife.org/what-we-do/toads-on-roads/
