Written By: Andrew Connolly Late at night under the new moon, with not another human around, frogs talk and I listen. Now they might not be saying, “Hi, how are you?” or “Good evening and goodnight,” but they are telling me important things. First, I get to learn their names. As I sit in silence taking in the peace of the pond, with dragonflies skipping off the surface and a lone owl calling in distance, they introduce themselves one by one. The males of a species produce a call unique to that species that they sing, and yell, and shout each spring and summer to attract a partner. It could be the deep cry of a Fowler’s Toad, or the raspy quack of a Wood Frog. It might be a long trill, that of the American Toad, or a short trill, like the Gray Tree Frog. They speak their species name and I record it.
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September 2024
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