Froggy Friend

Day 196: The ditch beside the public parking area at Charles L. Pack Experimental Forest was simply alive with the sounds of ribbeting, and if I had been asked to make an indentification by visual observation alone, I would have failed miserably. However, the voices were unmistakably those of the Pacific Chorus Frog (Pseudacris regilla), the Pacific Northwest's version of the "spring peeper." The most skilled woodsman could not sneak up on these frogs unnoticed. Despite stepping gently and trying to keep varying intervals between my footfalls, I only succeeded in getting within ten feet of the water before dozens of bumps leapt from a log on the shore to the safety offered by a blanket of Water Starwort. That said, the memories of these delightful creatures are short and I am patient. I waited, standing stock-still, until partial faces began appearing above the green mat. One here, two there, my froggy friends showed themselves until thirty or more pairs of eyes emerged, sometimes one frog atop another. I would have waited for the population to return to their former perch, but the weather had drawn out an abundance of hikers as well who, in a flurry of feet and loud chatter to their companions about the constructs of Man, frightened the performers from the venue before they could return to the stage.