Little red efts were crawling the wet forest floor at Frozen Head State Park yesterday. They’re poisonous to eat but generally won’t bite. They live on the land but they’ve just left the water and will return again.
They’re really just another phase of newts, a flashy youthful stage in which they roam the land.
As I point out in my book they never know their parents, not even as babies.
This was in contrast to me, at age 31, living on my own but still enjoying some time with my parents on a hike at Frozen Head, joined admittedly by 21 people and two other naturalists. Dad, a plant ecologist by degree entertained the crowd by naming and providing facts about the natural world around us, such as the eft and the iris shown below. While at the time our book describes, I wanted to break free of Dad, I realize now, just how good I have it hiking with a Dad who knows so much.
You can sometimes see just the skipping of a frog-sized shape. Other times though you can find their big-eyed faces peaking up out of the water or the leaves. I count myself lucky when I catch them like that.
Yvonne stayed silent, wanting to conteplate nature in a respectful, worshipful way. Silent too, I crept slowly and silently too, but my approach was that of a hunter. I wanted to capture the big-eyed stair, the dull back, the bright green under them.
In my experience frogs are either still or hop or swim out of the way. Rarely have I ever seen one just leisurely stroll.
But I must have been doing something right. Only after quite a few pictures did this one jump out of the way.
Green frogs are not always green or in this case, not always all across their bodies. The main thing that separates them from bullfrogs is the fold that extends down their backs. They also lack the square or round spots of pickerel or leopard frogs. If all that came off as gibberish to you, and to you they’re all frogs, that was the same for me until I read up on these hopping adorables in The Amphibians of Tennessee, a book I recommend.
Their mating call, which they make at age two onward when seeking mates sounds like a banjo and you can hear it for half a mile.
I spotted this and another frog recently at the University of Tennessee Arboretum in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. The Arboretum is not, precisely, wilderness, but rather spot with various experimental and exhibit areas, among them “small wetlands” which are shallow ponds. These are the best spots, as you can imagine, for frogs.
Purple flowers bloom, pools with lilies sit quietly, and if you keep walking far enough, you’ll see little frogs jumping from your path everywhere. Ducks swim by. Just the kind of place that makes you want to take a moment, reflect …
And scratch like crazy from all the mosquito bites. I imagine for a lot of people what they’ll be contemplating is … how soon they can leave.
All joking aside, Yvonne and I enjoyed coming to Quincy Bog Natural Area, near Rumney NH, by evening. It’s a short trail and you might even learn some plant names by the helpful signs placed near ferns. While we did not see beavers, we did see what appeared their dam. With a little insect repellent, which we did not have, you should be fine. And truth be told I can handle a few bites in the name of natural beauty.
Rather than reading about Quincy Bog, enjoy it for yourself! This video isn’t by me, but Peter Bloch really does a good job.
Trail maps are available here althoug we did fine looping around the pond without one.