The Woodland Trickster

Today felt like a lazy June day. A day when the temperature gets a little too warm. When a walk in the woods at mid-day makes your arms sweat just a bit, making them feel clammy in the dry warm air. As I sat by a languid river flies buzzed in the patch of sunlight on the forest floor. Surely this is not just the beginning of spring.

I shake myself free of my summer stupor. As I walk farther along I hear the trickster of woodland pools: the wood frog with its black mask and mating calls that sound so much like quacking ducks and not at all like a frog. And I know it really is still spring. Then I hear the soft trill of the pine warblers that just arrived today from their southern U.S. wintering grounds. The warbler so well-named since it spends most of its breeding season in white pines.

The lilac leaf buds suddenly burst open. Everything is happening so fast; I have to stay vigilant on my yard walkabouts so as not to miss something exciting. The tulips have shot up so fast that I expect a flower bud to appear any day. I wake each day now with great anticipation on what new things I might see or hear or smell.

Srini and I thought we should get a rain barrel to hook up to our downspout. We might need extra water this year, at this pace. March is looking like a dry month. No wonder the wood frog has evolved to breed early in spring when there is still water in their ephemeral pools. Some years the pools dry up early so they better be quick with the quack.