When my ears long for sounds of sanity in a summer of confusion, the plucky voice of the green frog cuts through the chaos.
He’s not loud, but his voice carries. He listens more than he speaks, but when he does talk, I want to hear what he has to say.
In short, he’s my kind of guy, and at night when he provides backup vocals to the tree frogs, I fall sleep wondering what his life is like. In the morning when I’m making my coffee, I look forward to seeing him on my daily rounds. Though he doesn’t always show his dazzling face, he makes himself known through the woodland, greeting the catbirds and marking the rise and fall of cicada song.
Many voices compete for my attention during this summer of reckoning, and some days they split my mind into more lines of thought than I can follow to their natural ends, flash-flooding a parched head-scape that can’t possibly absorb it all. It’s in those moments that I seek the company and clarity of the voice of someone untethered to human culture, someone unaware of the latest farces and failures of compassion and common sense, who seems to have a natural affinity for knowing when to speak up and when to let silence in.
With his self-assured clucks and the descending notes that follow—the aural equivalent of ellipses that leave me hanging on his every word—the green frog’s voice emanates through rains and birdsong. It rises above lawnmowers, chainsaws, and other macho yelling machines that have taken over the neighborhood. Sometimes the frog might be calling for a mate, or sometimes he might be protecting his territory. But after months of sitting near him in companionable silence, I wonder if he’s also just letting the world know he exists: “Hello, I’m here, and this is my song.”
Whatever Floats Their Boats?
Before this year, I didn’t know much about green frogs, except that they liked to hang out on the floating rescue ramps in the swimming pool and hide in the spiral-shaped skimmer insert that resembles an apartment fire escape. While other amphibians and insects use these contraptions for their intended purpose—to keep from drowning—green frogs treat them more like snack bars where they can dawdle and wait for easy prey.
When my husband, Will, and I dug a pond this spring in the hopes of luring them to a safer and more natural setting, the plan worked, for the most part. Though one frog still visits his old haunts, several others have settled into pond life, spending their days under rocks and bark or floating on fallen leaves as if they’re hanging out on a pool raft, margarita in hand.
It’s Always a Party at the Pond
Watching the frogs from a bench about eight feet away, I’m distant enough to keep from scaring them but close enough to get a peek into their daily routines. A couple of the frogs are wary of my presence and dip under water when I round the bend in the path, but one seems to have the opposite reaction, sometimes swimming over to me as I plant seedlings near the pond’s edge. Once he even hopped up on a nearby rock and kept me company as I worked.
Joining us in this little oasis are hunting dragonflies, a cheeky chipmunk, and wasps and butterflies gathering water directly from the pond. Evenings are full of surprises: A few weeks ago, a scarlet tanager flew toward the walnut tree behind the bench where Will and I sat, coming within inches of our faces before making a quick right turn into the sassafras trees. One night a teenage rabbit hopped down the path, checked out the plants, and came over to the bench to sit right underneath me before navigating around my flip-flops and nibbling on grass a few feet away.
A Unexpected Tadpole Feast
Water striders and tadpoles swim with the frogs now, and one week I watched the tadpoles methodically feeding around a frog’s mouth and down his backside. I thought of the fish who scour parasites from hippos’ skin and even clean their teeth; this mutual exchange provides nutrients for the fish and a day at the spa for the hippos, who seem to relax into the activity with delight. I wondered if a similar relationship was at work here, though judging by the frog’s eventual reaction—a shakeoff that looked born of irritation—maybe being nipped at by tadpoles wasn’t as pleasurable. “I’m guessing that the tadpoles seen grazing on the skin of this male green frog may be grazing on the outer mucous layer of his skin,” explained herpetologist Jack Cover when I sent him the video to learn more. Though tadpoles eat a lot of algae and even have specialized dental plates to scrape it from surfaces, “they are not strictly herbivorous,” he wrote. “They will opportunistically feed on dead tadpoles, fish, insects and other animal protein.”
Frog Frenemies?
Green frogs are fairly solitary, yet I’ve seen more than one sharing the pond day after day. Sometimes they appear to tussle for territory, but often they just sit on opposite sides, giving each other a wide berth. So it was with fascination that I recently watched a frog slip under the water and come up for air right next to another, resting her head on his back for a few minutes until the frog underneath broke the spell with a shudder that seemed to say: “Back up off me!”
Were they friends who annoyed each other? Mates? Potential mates? Through my camera and with my poor eyesight, I couldn’t even be sure of her species, let alone her gender. An enlarged view on my computer screen and another conversation with Jack revealed that this was likely not a friendly encounter, because the frog who’d been making the moves was a young female bullfrog. She could have been attempting a land grab (or a pond grab?), Jack explained, or she may have even had even more nefarious goals in mind: Bullfrogs eat other frogs, even of their own kind. “She may have been checking out a potential prey item,” Jack told me, “and deemed the green frog too large to eat once she got up close.”
It’s more than just a frog-eat-frog world out there, though. Bullfrogs also eat aquatic eggs, insects, snakes, worms, fish, salamanders, crustaceans and many other animals. Green frog diets include terrestrial beetles and other insects, spiders, small fish, crayfish, small snakes, snails, and yes, other frogs—or, as many sources write, anything that will fit into their mouths. There are no food shortages for them here in our habitat, and I hope to keep restoring more wetland areas in the coming years. It’s the least I can do for the animals who’ve given so much comfort to me, the few voices of sanity rising above the chaos of humans who have lost their senses—and, too often, their capacity for being sensitive to the needs of their closest neighbors, both wild and otherwise.
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Wonderful article, informative and heartwarming. Thank you for my afternoon amusement and edification. I love the Humane Gardener.
Thank you, Beth! They bring me so much joy, so I’m happy that their story can do the same for you too! <3
We moved to an old house with an old small 7X12X3 ft pond a few months ago. We’ve had spotted and Jefferson salamanders spawning and peepers and what sounded like a thousand American toads and now green frogs too. Though I haven’t seem them all lately (and rather hope they have not eaten each other!) we had at least 7, often sitting in pots of plants that were in the shallows. We also have a snapping turtle who surprised me when he lifted his head above the surface a few weeks ago. I keep hoping he’ll eat some of the goldfish who were produced by the two that were in the pond when we arrived, but he isn’t seeming very interested, as yet. Thanks so much for your post. For most of our wildlife-friendly pond information we have had to look at sites from the UK. They certainly seem to have more interest in having wild things in their ponds than most American’s do.
Hi Ann, what a wonderful little oasis you have landed upon! I think we might make our next pond deeper — then we might be able to support turtles in it like yours does! 🙂 That’s interesting about the UK resources — and I guess not entirely surprising. Someone else told me the same thing — that they couldn’t find as much info on American sites. I did find a few resources that I’ll post about soon. 🙂
Thanks, Nancy 🙂
Your stories make me so happy.
Hi Ginger! Thank you! <3
Wow, I have never learned so much about frogs! Not all of us have the time or inclination to sit on a bench to watch the frogs and tadpoles, but thank you for sharing what you learned, Nancy.
Hi Debby!! If I was at your house, I’d be sitting on a bench watching javelinas! <3
Thanks Nancy for another timely article! I believe my companion in our tiny pond is a green frog. Have so enjoyed watching it grow. A variety of sizes of tadpoles also inhabit this water. I wonder if I will be getting assistance from these frogs in curbing the population of the invading “jumping” worms in the surrounding garden.
Hi Terry! Frog-watching is the best! I’m happy you are able to do it too. Maybe you’ll get help from the moles as well; their main diet is earthworms, and I find they are super helpful here!
We have an abandoned swimming pool with a sunken cover that is full of frogs. I can hear them talking to each other all day, and on rainy nights the tree frogs throw a party! I’m sometimes asked “Are you going to use the pool?” Nothing could be more useful than the amazing pond, full of residents, that it’s become!
That’s fantastic! Swimming pool covers make great vernal pools — and in your case, season-long ponds! The tree frogs really do throw parties on rainy nights, don’t they? I thought maybe it was past season, but on Friday night they were going crazy in the rain. It is the best sound. <3
Lovely story. I enjoyed reading it. Thank you.
Hi Joy, thank you! And thanks for reading. <3
Thank you for another lovely story about your animal neighbors, Nancy! I’m so very glad to see you back to posting these wonderful tales. You always make me think, and I truly empathize with your need these days for the calm and quiet (and the funny moments too) of the natural world! With the wild storm we had in CT this past week, I rescued a water-logged sparrow who was being blown in all directions, and I loved the couple of hours I spent quietly with her while she dried off and got ready for dinner when the wind finally died down. Those moments of magic are what I love so much about your writing. All the best – Laurie
Hi Laurie, yes, I’m back! <3 Not having as many places to travel to has helped me make time for writing about observations this season, though there are so many piling up that I now have a backlog! 🙂 What a sweet moment that must have been with your little sparrow. I'm glad she was able to regain her composure in your gentle company!
Nancy – can you tell us more about your pond? How did you create it and with what materials? How deep is it? Do you need to do anything to keep it clean? Any recommendations for others looking to build something similar to attract wildlife? Thanks.
Hi Krista! Yes, I can send some stuff to you. It’s about 8 feet in diameter and only about 18 inches deep. We are probably going to make another deeper one next year that will serve other purposes. I’m no pond expert but can send you some resources and what I learned so far. 🙂
This was such a delightful email. loved all the photos and information. I really enjoyed seeing this side of nature.
Hi Margaret – thank you! And thanks so much for reading. <3
Thank you. I thoroughly enjoyed your article/story.
Thanks, Vicki! I appreciate your reading it. <3
Loved your article about green frogs can you give me advice on what is needed to build a small pond for them? Thank you!
Just sent you an email! 🙂
Hi, Nancy! I remember as a kid moving with my family into a city with frog residents, I was scared of them. Reading and looking at the photos of your article, I see the beauty and peace of the frogs. Wish I’d be there! Also, I just watched the video on your house garden. All I can say is that in this terrible time, we humans specially need to listen and put into practice your teachings.
Hi Soledad! Aw, they were probably very jumpy! 🙂 Here there are so few in our everyday environs unless people provide a place for them. The abundance of frogs we have now just wasn’t here when it was all lawn. We feel very lucky to share our space with them. <3 Thank you for watching the video! I need to do another one because so much is in bloom now.
I loved the photos you sent. They are lovely and really give a good aspect to the way nature works. Thank you for sending them my way.
Hi Margaret – thank you! I’m so happy you enjoyed it. 🙂
What a lovely piece. Your words always soothe my soul and bring a smile to my face. Thank you.
Thanks so much, Gail. <3 I was obsessing all summer about my little frog friend and how to convey his amazingness!
Love your article and love my green frogs! I’ll add a link to my green frog page http://fishpondinfo.com/frogs/greenfrog.htm
Hi Robyn, thank you! <3 We sure are lucky to share our world with them, aren't we? I can hear mine chatting away as I type.
Our street doesn’t drain properly and every spring a “pond” forms along the curb and becomes home to frogs… Not sure of the species. They make so much noise and it’s interesting listening to all of them respond throughout the neighborhood. If you look carefully at the “pond”, you see frogs in various life stages hanging onto the curb. I love listening to them. You described it perfectly. You hear them up to the time the crickets really begin and then the cicadas emerge. And just when you think they are all gone, a rain comes and their start up again.