The picture above was taken from my barely opened backdoor on Wednesday, about ten minutes into a heavy rainstorm. It's raining again today -- third day in a row. If all the precipitation we've had over the past few months has anything to do with the polar ice cap melting, I wouldn't be surprised to wake up one morning and discover polar bears washed up in my yard.
Wednesday's downpour helped me solve a mystery. What caused me to take my camera to the door in the first place wasn't the rain but a familiar voice I heard "singing" in it. For about a month now I've been awakened in the night by some creature that seemed to be right outside my bedroom window. I couldn't tell if it was a frog or a bird. It sounded like a frog but was unusually high pitched. Sometimes it's been so loud I've gotten out of bed and looked out the window to see if I could spot it. Wednesday was the first time I've heard it in the daytime. This is what I found:
That little tree frog has made its home under the trim on my bedroom window. No wonder I couldn't see it when I looked out: it was only inches from my head. The tiny green and pink frog is about an inch and a half long from nose to rear end, which is amazing when you consider that its voice box must be at least as big as a one-gallon pickle jar.
I've stalked it ever since I found it peeking out of its hiding place. It's small enough to completely conceal itself underneath that narrow trim, and it's been there every time I've checked except late at night, around eleven. I suspect that's when it goes out partying, only to come home drunk in the wee hours and hoot and holler with no consideration for the neighbors.
On those nights when I've dragged myself out of bed to try to find the source of the noise, I've intended to shoo it away. But that was before I knew it lives here. The small space behind the window trim is its home, its haven, a place where it's safe from hungry birds of prey and whirling lawnmower blades. I have no reason to believe home is less important to a tiny frog than it is to me, so I'll let it stay where it is for now. From now on, when I hear its shrill croak, I might even sleep better, knowing it's arrived home safely.
I can always take a nap if I need to.
Quite right to leave it alone. You find wildlife in all sorts of unexpected places. I suppose your dogs don't know it's there. My daughter#s dogs spend hours trying to catch the green frogs in their lake - so far without success
ReplyDeleteBob, my dogs have learned the hard, foamy-mouthed way not to bother the egg-sized toads that live in our grass. I don't think they've discovered this little frog, although Gimpy might sense it's somewhere nearby. He won't even go into the yard to relieve himself until he's checked every nook and cranny of the patio to flush out one of the many green anole lizards that visit us daily. I'm afraid he might mistake our little froggy houseguest for one of those if he sees it.
DeleteIt's so cute! Have you named your new neighbor??
ReplyDeleteHolly, I hadn't thought about it. Hmm. Maybe "Squat"? That's descriptive in a couple of ways.
DeleteI love how you have realized the sanctity of the frog's home. You sound like me, a bit crazed, but one who very much cares for all the animals. I feed the birds and squirrels (and all the cats) because I can't bear the thought of any little creature going hungry. I'd probably be finding a supply of bugs for that frog!
ReplyDeleteHi, dkzody, and welcome! I'm not too worried about feeding the frog as it seems to be doing a fine job on its own. We're in Louisiana, after all, where there's no shortage of insects. What DOES worry me is the idea of the frog becoming dinner for a hawk or an owl. I love those creatures, too, and I realize they have to eat, but I'm hoping they'll overlook this little green guy.
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