29 March 2018

My first wood frog of the season, hopping slowly from one snowy bank to the other across the mist-dampened road. This is the first warm night of the spring. The air has condensed against the cold ground into eerie sheets of mists that look like they are getting tangled in the trees and spilling out over the more open ponds.

I pick up this first little frog caught in my headlights to move her on toward her destination and away from tires. I can feel the gritty snow crystals on her skin, which I imagine must be terribly uncomfortable on her soft underbelly. She is sluggish but clear-eyed. Females generally are redder in coloration, but she seems brighter and more sanguine than any wood frog I’ve ever seen. Maybe her ruddy complexion is due to the profusion of blood just recently mobilized and coursing through the capillaries of her skin—blood that until just a few hours ago had been frozen in her cells.

30 March 2018

Noon – The ponds are mostly quiet. A few bold peepers chirp in the warmer ponds with more open canopies. I see wood frogs listlessly floating at the surface and racing for the leaves at the pond bottom when I step into the water, but none of them are vocalizing, yet.

5 PM – The warm day and persistent drizzle this evening were a clear call for the lethargic amphibians to join the early wood frogs in the ponds. Spotted salamanders and wood frogs are out in waves, but other species are on the move, too. I saw one crayfish scuttling across the road from forest to a large tussock-filled pond and two four-toed salamanders apparently racing side by side.

9 PM – Driving around tonight as slowly as possible yet still swerving to miss late-recognized salamanders, I realized that spotted salamanders are a great object lesson against teleological evolution. Evolution is obviously not forward-looking if it resulted in a slow-moving, soft-bodied animal that so perfectly matched the color or wet pavement. Even the bright yellow spots that one might think would stand out in the headlights are indistinguishable from the bright flecks in the chip-and-seal road and just act as further camouflage.

The frogs have found their voices and the choruses are erupting in vernal pockets across the forest. In one pond, I caught a mass of six or more wood frogs clamoring together in a tangle of splayed hindlegs. It is clear that these frogs are driven by a severe case of FOMO incomparable to even the most angst-ridden teenager—all are too concerning with missing out on the chance for breeding none have realized that they’ve engage not a gravid female wood frog, but a male spotted salamander! The poor salamander is helpless in the trap-like bear hugs of the frogs.

31 March 2018

A handful of early clutches were generated in last night’s excitement. I collected a few eggs from each clutch, carefully recorded the water chemistry, and installed a temperature logger at the oviposition site. As the eggs develop, I’ll be back to check their progress and monitor the water conditions, comparing the wild embryos to their brethren back in the lab.

1 April 2018

It is a cloudy day but dry and breezy. A few ponds are chorusing, but they are skittish and clam-up any time I get near. Only a few new egg masses appeared overnight. The forecast is calling for snow tonight, so it may remain quiet for the next couple of days.