Froglet, froglets everywhere...

The three hours of thunderstorms last night left the garden nice and damp for exploring this morning. Anyone sitting quietly and watching the trug pond would have seen froglets climbing out and heading in all directions. A handful of our number have lost their tails altogether now and can hop really well. They tend to climb on to the rock platform and jump into the nearby plants, where they can hunt ants.



A few froglets, still with short tails, climbed out under the protective plastic grill that protects the pond from birds and larger aquatic inhabitants. This allowed them to clamber over the edge of the trug and into the rocks and ice plants that lead down to the larger of the two nearby frog houses.

The protective grill touches the water surface in the centre of the pond and Cuthbert managed to balance precariously on the grill until a human loomed into view and he dived for cover.

Meanwhile our older family members in the large pond took the opportunity to have a sun bathe with their friends.



It is quite common to see four or five fish and a couple of frogs all sun bathing together in the warmest part of the pond. Hopefully I'll be big enough to join them next year.

Meet the Family

Now we have settled into the new trug pond things have been quite relaxing for the last couple of days. Rupert went off exploring yesterday and hasn't been seen since. He said he was going to investigate the ivy that cover the ground to the south of the pond. I hope he is OK.

Meanwhile two or three of our more advanced froglets have taken over Rupert's post on the rock by the edge of the pond. Their view of the world has been short lived at times, as Gertrude, who has a fine set of back legs, but no front legs yet, repeatedly launches herself onto the rock sending the froglets flying. She just can't wait to get those front legs and sit proudly half in, half out of the water.

I realise that I haven't got around to telling you who we are. We are European Common Frogs (Rana temporaria) though unfortunately the loss of many of the UK's farm ponds means that we are not so common these days. Here's some pictures of our parents in the big pond to give an idea of what we will grow up to be like in three or four years.



Our parents came from a neighbour's pond, where our family have been living for may years. But this spring it got just too crowded - at one point there were eleven adults singing around the pond. So our parents decided to move. They had investigated the main pond in this garden some years before, but its high walls and limited vegetation made it tricky to get back out of.

This year things had improved. There are still some pretty big fish to contend with, but half the surface is now covered with lily pads that make it easy to jump out of the pond, and give great shade to doze under.



Our parents have been joined by two juveniles and they say that this garden is a pretty good place to stay. Apart from the pond there is a small bog garden and a varied range of ground hugging plants to hide under. Many gardens around here are lifeless expanses of concrete or tiles. Here the small lawn and flower beds give a good supply of insects and scrumptious snails. With high fences that keep out the cats and foxes I'm beginning to really look forward to exploring the outside world.

Rupert makes it to dry land

Rupert was one of the first to get his front legs and easily the most excited about the platform that breaks the surface in our new home. I can't see what the attraction is, but he has spent all today just sitting out in the air watching the world go by. He hasn't been the same since he got that extra pair of legs.



He just sits there, not even budging at meal times. Meanwhile his once glorious tail, which he was once so proud of, is a mere shadow of its former self. I ask you, he can't even swim with it anymore! What is the point of that?

Another thirty of our friends from the old home came pouring out of the sky to join us today. Life is good, or it would be if I didn't have this dreadful itching down both sides of my body.

Thanks to Rachey Von Grimm for the macro-photography.

A Trug is Dug

With our four-legged brothers wishing to leave home we suddenly realised that we have no way of getting out of this box. This led to one or two of the froglets getting panicky - they said they were finding it hard to breathe underwater and needed air... But we needn't have worried, The Great Fat Frog was already building us a new home.



For the princely sum of £40 he had bought a garden trug, some plants, a few bricks and a big bag of shiny stones. His great plan was to sink the trug into the garden as a second pond, arranged so that we can easily climb in and out, while giving us lots of exciting places to hide near the water.



After a certain amount of taking another deity's name in vain, the top was cut from the trug and it was sunk into the ground and leveled so that the water surface would match the level of the ground. We looked on in apprehension; it did not look very welcoming to us. And would we still get free daphnia?

Meanwhile one of The Great Fat Frog's underlings, a little angel apparently, was working hard to clean the stones, and get his socks as wet as possible.



Two hours after the great work had been started it was ready for the chosen ones. The trug was filled with pond water and a pile of bricks supported a platform giving easy access to the water's edge. Shady plants surrounded the water and smooth stones ensured easy access to the perimeter of the pond.



We, the vanguard of the six four-legged ones and sixty-eight followers, were magically transported to our new home and have been exploring ever since. We can bask, just under the surface, on the platform, play in the caves underneath and investigate the interesting new plants.

A promised land indeed. But the six chosen ones still say they want to leave.

Let us introduce ourselves...

Let us introduce ourselves, we are about 200 common frog tadpoles that were saved from ravenous ramhorn snails by our blessed deity who we call "The Great Fat Frog" (blessed be his name). You see our parents, in their wisdom, laid us in an ornamental pond, with high side walls and a surplus of murderous snails and giant shubunkins.

When we hatched we found ourselves in a plastic box that gave us panoramic views of the pond in which we had been laid. As well as our parents, we regularly see two or three other frogs hiding under the lily pads in the Hallowed Pond. We'd love to live with them, but The Great Fat Frog has told us we must stay in this special refuge he has created for us.



For the last couple of months we have led a carefree life, feasting on regular supplies of algae, daphnia and Tetramin (which we love). But of late it was getting a bit crowded and so we recently moved to a garden trug which gave us a lot more room to charge around. Quite a lot of us have grown back legs but yesterday six of our number found they had grown front legs over night! These are great! They can hang onto floating weed really well and two have even tried making little jumps. Funnily enough the six seem to have lost their appetites and their tails are shrinking. It's all a bit mysterious and not a little frightening - especially as they have suddenly started going on about wanting to leave home and explore the big wide world...