Frogs

 

Frogs

We used to have lots of frogs in our pond, all making merry in the early spring.

A few years ago, they all disappeared.

These are the only frogs we have now.

We still have newts.

The pond is somewhat overgrown, but attracts wildlife.

Damselflies

Dragonflies

. . . and other watery beasties and little creatures that come for a drink of water - they don't care if it's not crystal clear.

ABC Wednesday F is for . . .

Another traipse around the garden will lead you to a few things beginning with F.

We have Fish in our pond . . .

golden rudd

silver rudd

. . . Frogs.

In summer there are French marigolds (Tagetes patula) which would speak Spanish, or possibly Portuguese, if they could, rather than French as they are native to South America. Hoverflies love them. They are useful companion plants, the roots producing a substance that deters eelworms (form of nematodes) and repelling whitefly on tomatoes. Medicinally, a liquid concentrate from flowers and leaves is used in eastern cultures to treat nosebleeds.

Yellow dye from the flowers is used in food and textile colouring.

The flowers of Tagetes patula can also be harvested to extract the essential oil which is blended with sandalwood oil to produce ‘attar genda’, a perfume popular in India. In the west research is being conducted to determine the efficacy of the oil as an antifungal remedy, particularly for the treatment of candidiasis (thrush) and fungal diseases in plants.

French marigolds were brought to England by Huguenots (French Protestants) escaping from France after the massacre of St Bartholomew in 1572. Under the influence of the French queen, Catherine de Medici, Roman Catholic mobs killed tens of thousands of Huguenots.

Forget-me-nots (Myositis) bloom in the spring and early summer. They prefer moist growing conditions when they will self-seed readily.

You can find out more about them here.

Also flowering at the same time as Forget-me-nots is Firethorn (Pyracantha) With its strong, sharp thorns this plant can be grown as a very efficient barrier to intruders. In addition, it provides dense cover for roosting and nesting birds. 

The flowers are profuse, attracting myriads of bees, and are a valuable source of nectar in June when there is a dearth of nectar-producing plants. 

The berries are yellow, orange or red and provide a feast for birds during the colder months when there may not be much else for them to feed on.

The first Fuchsias were discovered in Hispaniola (now the Dominican Republic and Haiti) by a French monk and botanist called Charles Plumier. He gave them the name Fuchsia in honour of the German botanist Leonhart Fuchs. Fuchsias are an important source of nectar, particularly for bumble bees. 

We plant them in hanging baskets but they can be grown as small shrubs or used for hedging. 

Click here to see more Fabulous Fs.

Succinctly Yours Week 15

Grandma's Goulash at Succinctly Yours hosts this microfiction meme.

Each week she posts a photographic prompt for inspiration and the challenge is to write a story using no more than 140 characters or words. 

As an extra challenge, a word is offered for inclusion and this week’s word is expedient.

Below is this week's photo followed by my offering. 

The frog waited patiently then flicked out its long, sticky tongue. It gulped and the fly was gone. Then the heron struck. Life is cruel!

(137 characters)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Felicity believed all life was sacred and allowed the creatures in her garden to share the bounty of nature. There was enough for all. The birds were grateful for the caterpillars, slugs and snails, and the fish varied their diet with things beneath and above the water. Dragonflies, those predatory survivors of prehistory, sped through the warm summer air, snapping up slower, less fortunate insects. Even wasps she didn’t mind, so long as they didn’t threaten to sting her.

The one thing she could not tolerate were flies. She hated the way they buzzed around her head and how they blundered into the lamps at night. Flies carried disease and although it was contrary to everything she believed, it was expedient that they were eradicated.

Swatting them improved her reflexes and helped her to become a champion tennis player.

(139 words)

Two-headed eight-legged beasts

The two-headed eight-legged beasts are back! No, not a mutant arachnid – even with just one head spiders are scary . . . shudder. The creatures of which I speak are amphibians and often appear in our garden pond around this time of year. It seems too chilly yet for them to emerge from their cosy hibernation in the mud and the weather forecast is for a cold snap for a few days so they may well die to regret their enthusiasm.

Nonetheless, they are active once more, though surprisingly quiet. There are variations on the mutation; I have seen amorphous masses with six or seven heads and twenty-four to twenty-eight legs, some of which seem to be in opposition to the majority – that is, upside down.

Later on gelatinous clumps will appear on the pond’s surface, each with a small black inhabitant which, when closely observed, appears to move. Within a few days the jelly-dwellers have grown and soon will have consumed their surroundings. How strange that must be! Imagine eating your own house! Some of it would be so crunchy and difficult to chew and other parts would be decidedly unappetising if not downright disgusting.

So what do these wriggling black commas do when they’ve literally eaten themselves out of house and home? Well, the ones that aren’t immediately gobbled up by other pond residents continue to grow and before long have developed legs. They are undergoing tremendous changes and one day, provided no passing crow or magpie has feasted on them, they will metamorphose from gilled beings to air-breathing animals capable of leaving the water and living on land.

The frogs this year are camera-shy so the photos are of their bolder, older friends and relations from last spring. 

Yes, the frogs are alive and busy once more!

 

Who would not love that happy smiley face?

Late one day this week, when the sun had set and it was cold and dark outside, a large frog was spotted trying to break into our house. He sat next to the patio door, waiting for a foolish human to open it and allow him access. It was as well that he did not succeed for inside were four-legged animals that would have played with him but not known when to stop. Thus his chances of passing on his genes would have been dashed forever.

If you are too cold, little frogs, return to the dusky depths and slimy safety of the bottom of the pond.

Winston’s frog blog March 2010

Winston here . . . p'rrrrr, p'rrrrr . . .
I know you'll all be surprised to be hearing from me again – twice in one month, whatever next?
I just wanted to let you know that I've got a new hobby. You know that me and Monty are ornithologists. Well, there's plenty of our little fevvered friends in the garden to keep us happy, it being Spring and all. There's also lots of frogs crashing around in the pond – and making ever such a din, too. I think they're practising for a gin-ass-ticks display – you know, one of those things where they all climb on top of each other and the winner stands on the top and everyone claps. They're doing it in water so I s'pose it's – you know, whaddya call it? – sinkromized swimming or something or is it aquarobics? (Mrs H does that don'tcha know) but we can't see much of it, 'coz we're not in the water.
Anyway, my new hobby is photography. I don't actually take the pictures. I mean, come on, I'm a cat, don'tcha know. I'm not built the right way to hold a camera and my claws aren't made for pushing buttons that small. No, my new interest is in editing the pictures Mr H takes. I've been watching Mrs H when she edits and it's dead simple and I can do it much quicker than her.
So I thought you'd like to see my first efforts.

How many frogs can you see? (There are at least four!)

I think they're pretty good for a beginner and a cat, at that. Mrs H was ever so impressed 'coz I did it so quick and even she don't know how I managed to turn them from colour to monochrome and I star-rated that coloured one (five stars, natch!)

I hope you're as impressed as my Humans.

See you again soon.
TTFN

Face of the Week #4 Love is in the air!

Love is in the air (well, in the pond actually)

Just two of the amorous frogs in our pond today. Obviously they are still at the romantic, hand-holding (web-holding?) stage.

Sistertex at Spacial Peepol organises and hosts this meme so why not visit her to see who's playing this week?

Spring 2010

Has Spring sprung or merely gently yawned and stretched?
Last night, for the first time this year, I heard a frog calling with that distinctive rolling chirp. In 2009 the frogs started singing a full month earlier than this. There are a few individuals in our pond and the fish are swimming about in the expectation of tasty frogs' eggs though I think they may be disappointed for a while yet (not French, our fish, nor gastronomes – no taste for grenouilles). I'll feed them anyway so that some spawn may survive – if eventually it is deposited.
Spring is certainly taking its time to wake up. The Spring flowers are late. Usually the tête-à-tête daffodils are in full bloom by St David's Day on 1^st March but they've only opened in the past week. Other daffodils in the garden and in pots are still in bud, their glories yet to be revealed. Tree buds are beginning to ripen but everything seems reluctant to show itself.

Common Ninebark  (Physocarpus Opulifolius) 'Dart's Gold'

I suppose Spring always enters shyly, disclosing her beauty gradually so that we may appreciate it the more. Our Common Ninebark (Physocarpus Opulifolius) is almost in leaf – I love the bright yellow-green of its foliage and of course the hazel catkins are shaking their tails in the breeze.

 Corkscrew hazel (Corylus avellana contorta)

I discovered some hellebores bravely blooming, their heads barely raised above the ground. The crocuses were late, too, and the lone snowdrop I've seen stands tall and proud – and late - in the shelter of the ninebark.

Somewhat battered Hellebore

Perhaps Spring is performing the dance of the seven veils. Maybe she always does but as I look out on this dank March day I feel that this year she is being unnecessarily coy. If the sun shines later – or ever – I will definitely feel more hopeful but for now the wind is sharpening and the drizzle is determined to grow up into rain.