Nothing special...

Really, there is nothing all that special about my yard. Okay, so it’s bigger than a postage stamp (just under two acres if you don’t count the driveway) and there isn’t a lawn to speak of—and what remnants of grass are left don’t get mown. Ditto for most of the lot bordering my southern side (for now—fingers crossed). There’s Green Space to the east that houses some horses but the rest is “natural” and the Farmland Trust acreage to the north is still under agriculture of a sort… Then there’s the little pond just behind the tree line and the ditches in the old hedgerow that hold enough water to classify as wetlands. Western neighbors mow; hopefully that at least keeps the woodcock happy since my tangle is getting rather too thick for their ideal enjoyment.

But native vegetation? Sweet gum trees—lots of sweet gum trees (it’s an early successional species, so they’re to be expected on farm-returning-to-natural land). The American Holly is trying to re-establish itself, as is the bayberry. A few oaks and maples, a persimmon and a young sycamore; haven’t noticed a sassafras in awhile, though. Plenty of red cedar (juniper)—around here one might not be blamed for thinking seriously about calling it a weed. But the Japanese honeysuckle and multiflora rose and that lovely thick grass along the drive (which is apparently taking over a good bit of the county open space) and the list of invasive non-natives goes on—compromise a fair portion of the vegetative mass … Flowers? Hah. Can you say “increasing deer population”? All my wood violets are in pots and even they have been grazed.

So why Gray Treefrogs (of the Northern persuasion) love my property is beyond me. I’m convinced it is solely because of my treefrog gray colored house and sheds.

I heard the first-of-the-year treefrogs half-heartedly calling last week. I’ve spent the recent too-warm-for-April-but-after-this-winter-I’ll-take-it days puttering around my decks, cleaning up last year’s accumulated mess.

I nearly cleaned up this little one thinking a dead leaf had fallen on the pot since the last time I’d looked.

A bit later, I noticed another.

(View from inside my front door.)

Heard two more close by but couldn’t track them down.

As much as I’m at a loss to explain why I have such cute little neighbors who make somewhat frequent appearances, I’m not complaining. I loved having the green treefrogs all around when I lived in Florida. At least their gray cousins have (so far) kept out of window tracks and away from that horrible inadvertent death. Of course with so many grays around already this year I’m starting to get a bit paranoid about where I step and what I move around… (I once incautiously moved a cardboard box that had been sitting long enough on the deck to turn into a nice damp skink habitat—I really didn’t need to know firsthand what happens when a wee lizard loses its tail. Eww… Fascinating, yes—no blood? How can you break off a tail and not have a raw wound???—but definitely gruesome.)

The frogs spent hours baking in the sun—apparently these wee ones can form a clear coat over their skin to protect them presumably from moisture loss and perhaps it acts as a sunscreen as well? They actually went from dull-skinned to shiny-skinned as they sat in the sun (you’d think it would be the other way ‘round) and I actually watched the one on the pipe trellis rubbing off a clear, thin membrane as the sun shifted to shade—then they moved. The one on the pot rim had tucked itself down under the moss inside and the one on the trellis moved to a lower level. And probably called—a very loud treefrog “song” just outside my front door is what drew me back outside to see where they had gone a couple of hours after I first photographed them.

I am happy to report that at least one skink is out and about as well. Life goes on after a harsh winter—for the little cold-blooded critters as well as the winged things. (That blasted carrion beetle was back again!)

SPOKE TOO SOON. I simply must learn to keep my mouth shut. The flowerpot full of moss and little gray tree frog 36 hours later:

That’s a thick layer of very large sleet pellets from the “April shower” that accompanied an overnight low of 29°F. (The good news is I didn't see the frog when the pot thawed.)

Ah, April... You misbegotten month! *grrrr*

Find the Frog.

This is the first time I've ever seen one of our gray tree frogs with any hint of green on it. Evidently they can go totally green, enough so that they near-identically resemble the common green tree frog found in the southern US. I suppose there had to be some reason its species name is "versicolor".

An acquaintance brought this one back to Cape May County after it had apparently hitched a ride to the city when he went home after a visit this past summer. Must have been just enough green in the substrate of its holding container to start the change. Luckily, I found a lichen-covered tree that perfectly matched the frog!

Looked pretty good on red (Dave's shirt), too.

Not what I'd call ideal habitat...

For a tree frog. On the other hand, if the summer is hot and dry and there's no other option for standing water... This bucket is balanced on the deck rail by my front door, and there was something unusual about it when I came home from work yesterday evening. See it? (Remember, tree frogs are out-of-place little gray blobs.) Look closely:

She's about half again as large as the one that was on the other deck the other month. Not sure if she was just soaking or was up to something else in the pot; there's too much duckweed to tell what she was doing other than that she probably was in the water at some time.

There was a frog-sized space clear of duckweed and she looked far too moist for the heat. Looks a bit plump, as well, but that could be merely due to the fact she's balanced on a rather thin rim.

Serendipity strikes again! And it has really neat feet...

Looking out the right window at the right time pays off yet again! Of course, my location certainly helps; it seems rather well suited to Northern Gray Treefrogs.

There was a little blob of gray on my decorative (seriously in need of painting) arch over the steps on the back deck...

After a bit of a photo session, the little blob started eyeing up the other side of the arch... I blinked and she was hanging off the cross piece two and a half feet away.

Apparently this was not where she wanted to be--indeed, it looked uncomfortable even for a frog with feet like that--and she launched herself once more.

She dug herself into the pot for a few hours, then went on with her explorations. I lost her once she left the top of the rail.

Copper Frog.

(She really was copper-colored. I didn't filter for tint, just texture [Dry Brush]. I had a few shots of other chocolate mint frogs--dark brown with those bright green spots--but I can't for the life of me find them on any of my memory cards. *grrr*)

There you are...

After a rather vociferous early spring, the gray treefrogs (northern persuasion) in my yard have calmed down their calling. (Odd, as everyone else seems to be reporting higher activity in the recent rains.) I hadn't been able to follow their quacking to an actual frog even when I was sure there was one somewhere on the front corner of the house (possibly in the downspout--smart frog). It was pure luck that I noticed this one when I went out on the side deck the other morning. [Apologies for the pre-coffee, slightly-out-of-focus shots. And the desperately-in-need-of-cleaning-and-painting doorframe. Eek.]

How nice that the former homeowner picked tree-frog gray for the color of the house siding! (Interesting side note: these frogs have the ability to turn tree-frog green as well; I've not been lucky enough to see this, but I have noticed changes in the amount of the dark patterning in one individual over the course of a day.)

'Sephone, having successfully charmed her way into the house last fall, becomes very confused when I go outside...

BULL vs. GREEN

Green frogs have well-defined back ridges.


Bull frogs are sort of squodgy, ill-defined, squishy-looking lumps. With legs. (Okay, their noses are cute enough to consider kissing.) Amazing that I was able to get a photo of this little one at all; I certainly wasn't expecting anything close to focused. It usually screams and leaps for cover when it sees me coming. (Seriously, it lets out this high-pitched Eek! and dives for the water practically before I've even had a chance to notice it. This is the best view I've had of it yet.)


The green frogs, however, are fearless. And really damn cute, standing sentinel over The Puddle.

LITTLE GRAY BLOB

I looked out my kitchen window this evening and noticed a little gray blob on the roof of the shed that is directly across the yard. Keep in mind that I stare out at this shed twice a day, every day, so it stood out. (Find it yet? Roof's edge just above the top right corner of the doors.) It's not what you might think. But having past experience of spotting little gray blobs on this shed from the same window, I did have a pretty good idea what it was. Binoculars confirmed it; a chair put me practically eye to eye with the little gray blob.


Hello, handsome.


Gray Tree Frog. No idea which flavor, Northern or Southern, even though Southern is rare (endangered/threatened species kind of rare) and should probably be reported to the appropriate authorities. Most living things at the very-most edges of their ranges tend to be rare, with or without declining availability of suitable habitat... My yard and the surrounding acres seem to have proven to be quite suitable habitat for these critters this year, if the multiple scattered calls around the place this spring and early summer were any indication. This shed has turned out to be one of the best places for actually spotting gray tree frogs without having to track them down by their calls. (Which I have yet to successfully do anywhere. I have, however, once been lucky enough to spot one when it jumped from one branch to another in a tree!)


Last year's looked-out-the-window-and-saw-the-frog. (There were actually two there that day.) I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that the shed is Gray Tree Frog gray? (And shaded; the other shed of identical color, although larger, is usually in full sun and has yet to host a tree frog that I've seen.)

If I am ever able to record their calls, someone else can then time said calls and factor in temperature and humidity in order to figure out which gray tree frogs I have. So long as the frogs know...

HOT

It was so hot once again today that it wasn't even comfortable simply sitting still in the shade on the front deck this afternoon. But as evidenced by all of my posts, the wildlife action was as hot as the temperature.


A young black snake (probably a racer because it is so round), a couple of feet long but still with barely visible hints of its baby pattern, leaving after coming in to the mud puddle for a drink. I only knew it was there in the first place because I had heard a frog's panicked splash as it approached. (The frogs seem to know Snap isn't a threat; a snake is another matter entirely.) I knew that by not taking the camera out in the heat I would risk missing a photo op…


This wee tiny frog, only about an inch long, was smart enough to wait until dark to come out (temps were still somewhere around 90° but at least the sun was down). I happened to glance up while picking up bowls from the cats' dinner and noticed a brown splotch on a plant just outside the window. I don't like using a flash, especially not when I'll be setting it off in some poor little critter's face, but because the sun had set I had no choice. It did, however, bring out the frog's pattern; it's a bit broken, but it sure looks like a Spring Peeper's "X" to me. Or should that be Summer Peeper?

I'm quite sorry that I didn't get a photo of the Gray Catbird who let me spray it with the hose so it could take a bath... Like I said, it was hot today.

SNAP BACK

You may be pleased to hear that Snap didn't become a snack. S/he merely has an alternate place to hide from the giant weird monster that keeps hovering over a poor wee turtle just trying to mind its own business…


The largest (~3-4") Green Frog (note that the side ridges run all the way from head to rear legs; a bullfrog's ridges drop immediately behind the head to the front legs) I've yet found in the yard is also still here. Would be neat if Snap learned to eat the land snails (like the one in this photo) that I've seen in/around the mud puddle.


An overhead shot showing how incredibly adaptable is the local wildlife. This is far from what I would consider an ideal habitat, but if it's the only option... (We need rain. A good, steady, ground-soaking rain, and we need it badly.) On the other hand, it is probably the perfect representation of a microhabitat. Any slow draining depression in an even slightly undeveloped area can provide the necessary requirements for generalist species…


Both frog and turtle are in this picture. (Frog is pretty easy to spot; turtle is a quarter of the way in from the right on about the same horizontal line as the frog.) The songbirds need not fear for their feet for another year or so, and even the smaller frogs would be too much of a mouthful right now for Snap. But mosquito larvae, beware!!!


Duckweed has also suddenly appeared in this little bit of water. (Only a few individual plants; this photo was taken over a container of it.) So did a bird bring it in from the side yard from the "real" pond set-up, or are the frogs carrying it with them as they travel over/under/around a cinderblock wall as they move about looking for water? Also amazing stuff, is this itty bitty plant. I personally love it, but perhaps the turtle "pond" is not the best location for it. Duckweed does have a tendency to take over once it gets going, and this little mud puddle hardly has room for water as it is.