One gardener's observations, discoveries and random thoughts whilst simultaneously worshipping and dallying in a Cape Cod garden. "A garden," said Ralph Waldo Emerson, "is like those pernicious machineries which catch a man's coatskirt or his hand, and draw in his arm, his leg and his whole body to irresistable destruction."

A light rain to report here last night. Started around dusk and went on more or less until midnight.

Everything in the gardens this morning looked extra green and satisfied, though I didn’t have time to do more than dash past on the way to the car.

I did, however, get this shot (above) of the fog over Boat Creek Marsh as I drove by on my way to work.

After dinner I made a return to the yard, but it was really too dim to appreciate much in the gardens near the house.

With so many trees around, dusk seems to come sooner there than down at the pond’s edge, and the sound of the peepers drew me through the woods, growing louder in my ears as I entered their domain.

I didn’t see many of these little frogs…but I was absolutely right down in the thick of peeper activity.

Their sound is just crazy-making at close range, but totally cool, as well. It sounds somehow alien, or artificial, the sound and notes are so intense. And SO loud!!

That close, you can hear each one seperately, and that they all seem to be singing different two-note pitches…and you can hear them “changing keys”…their notes adjusting…are they trying to match the pitch of someone and then find them? I wonder if they both have to sing the same two-note song in unison…because that seems almost never to happen.

Is it all for fun? (Could they possibly think of this as work?) It sure sounds like a good time.

In the midst of the distinctive peeping, there were other sounds, too…crickets, perhaps, more of a trilling sound, maybe just a different variety of frog. Lord knows, there are plenty.

I’m sure they were communi cating plenty about the lumber ing giant come down into their midst.

Sometimes all those in the immediate area around me would go silent. And then one would come on, extra loud, perhaps exerting his sense of their territory to me, with the others resuming their songs, as well.

Whatever the peeping’s about, it’s completely worth spending some time in the midst of, if you’re convenient to the habitat. Just make sure you have appropriate footwear: it’s wet down there at the water’s edge. And watch where you step!

In the pictures above, I was mostly taking pictures of the places where I’d pinpointed the peeping might be coming from. In that first image, I could convince myself I see six or seven of them, though none perfectly in focus. I left the file size large, so you can “embiggen” for study and have yourself a frog hunt.

And in case you really don’t have time to spend looking for frogs (but let’s be hon est …who doesn’t?), I did get this one clear-ish shot to share with you impatient types.


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