Oh, so many years ago, I was irritated by the sound of frogs and toads in the pond. You see, the "Frog Pond" at that time was designated as a "Fish Pond" and was home to a dozen or so very large gold fish. The fish had been one of my rescues! A young man who came to visit my son for the afternoon asked if he could "float" a baggy of tiny goldfish in the pond while he was here. Knowing he had a large aquarium at home, I agreed to let his fish stay in the cooling waters. When he was ready to leave, I asked why he bought "plain old goldfish" when I knew he had exotic fish in the tank. "Oh, these are to feed the other fish!". Well, that was not happening! Even though I knew he was going to go right out and buy more goldfish, I convinced him to let me have the little squirts. I released them into the pond and that was only the beginning. Those tiny (1 inch) fish quickly grew to about ten inches! I had the most beautiful pond ever! Then came Hurricane Katrina and the fish were never seen again. For the longest time, the pond sat vacant until the frogs moved in to set up household. FROGS! Loud frogs! And toads! Very loud toads! Our Fish Pond turned into a Frog Pond.
After the frogs and toads claimed the pond, I complained of the nightly serenading. My once quiet Bayou was now resonating with the mating calls of several thousand frogs and toads! The noise was so intense that it sounded as if the frogs and toads were inside the house with me. Sleep was a thing of the past. I fretted. I tossed and turned. Even though I grew up with a large pond full of frogs calling at night back on the farm, there was something irritating about these rascals. So I cajoled the sons to scoop the loud critters and haul them to a neighbor's pond (in the dead of night, no less!). The next night, the screaming critters had found their way back to the Fish Pond (or Fish-less Pond by this time.) Then, one night, I could take it no more and got out of bed to sit in the old porch rocker. Something had to give. I was exhausted from the lack of sleep. As I sat there rocking, I started noticing how many different songs there were, how the tones were different and how I would hear critters respond from far away.
Then came to mind a framed poem penned by my grandmother as she sat in a rocker on my folk's screened porch. "The Froggy Symphony" was her way of coping with the loud serenading of the frogs and toads in the pond back on the farm. It dawned on me that it was pure silliness for me to let the sounds irritate me so as, in a sense, I was a recipient of an untold blessing. I COULD HEAR! Yep, the critters' cacophony suddenly changed from a mishmash of calls to a "Froggy Symphony" of beautiful music.
Tonight, the tree frogs are calling. The toads are trilling. The bullfrogs are adding the bass. The nightly symphony starts with the first few warm nights and lasts until the first frost of the year. I have learned to embrace the noise as part of the charm of the Bayou. Add in about a billion or so crickets, a hoard of cicadas and dozens of assorted owls and the night is downright soothing! I can hear!
Well, I was almost too late! Cleaning the Frog Pond is always something I try to do in the early spring. Most of the time, the chore is done while it is still quite chilly even though I get rather wet. Mucking around in knee deep water is a must if the water hyacinths are to be thinned. Those things will clog up a pond rather quickly so each year, I pull out all but about a dozen or so. That means two hundred make their way to the compost bin. Hyacinths make excellent fertilizer so they do not go to waste. That cleaning, however, is quite the undertaking and this spring, it has been delayed several times. Last night, hundreds of toads and frogs could be heard raising their voices in their nightly serenade and love was being shared in the back yard. The cacophony gave me a bit of a sinking feeling. I was too late.
This morning as soon as other chores were completed, it was time to get down and dirty with the pond. The task was made even more difficult due to the fact that several clusters of toad eggs were already to be found woven in the roots of the water lilies. This made it difficult to get the water hyacinths free and clear. Several times, a decision had to be made. Either a few eggs had to be sacrificed or masses of water plants had to stay. I did the best I could to save each strand.
There was clearly no draining the entire pond as this would have damaged the eggs already there. Half of the water was drained while the pond was refilling. Hopefully, this did not disturb the eggs and the future toads and frogs will be happy with their somewhat cleaner abode. I, on the other hand, appreciated the warm, sunny day as I was just about soaked to the skin with yucky pond water! Oh, the things I do for the critters around this place!
The Great Roar is upon us, here on the Bayou. The almost deafening cacophony begins at dusk and carries on through the night. For those not familiar with this noise, it can be a bit unnerving but to old-timers, we understand it is an annual occurrence around here. Instead of complaining, we take it in stride and pull up a rocking chair to enjoy the "music". I am referring to the annual emergence of the cicadas. Their loud, buzzing sound tells us that the event is underway and for the next few weeks, it will continue. The cicadas that live most of their lives underground as nymphs have started digging their way to the surface and morphing into the winged creatures that look frightening, sound deafening and drive a lot of folks nigh to madness each summer. Me? I like hearing them. The critters have been part of my life as long as I can remember so what is not to love? They do not bite (other than an occasional nip), do not sting and do not transmit disease. They just come out, sing, fly around hunting for a mate then eventually die.
A cicada is a funny looking insect that has five eyes (two large and three tiny), short. fat body and iridescent, heavily-veined wings. The female will lay her eggs in slits in tree branches and after a few weeks the little ones hatch. They crawl down the tree to the ground where they quickly burrow. Spending the bulk of their lives underground as nymphs, they rely on a change in tree roots to know when to surface. Once they come out of their underground "city", they morph into winged creatures and the males begin to sing. The raspy, buzzing songs can bring thousands of adult cicadas together...both male and female. The males come to sing to the females and the females come to find a suitable mate.
Like I said earlier, I am not one that despises these critters. In fact, I usually throw open the windows to listen to their songs. These, the crickets and frogs join together in a sublime harmony. There is nothing quite like the peace and quiet of the Bayou...hmmm.....right. With some ten thousand or so critters all singing, it is hardly quiet but, in all truthfulness, I still find it peaceful!
Most folks who visit the Bayou during the daytime hours always remark about how quiet it is here. The peacefulness sort of wraps around you like a comfortable old sweater and holds you tight as the cares of the world slip away. It is a soothing feeling that can make the stress of the world seem a thousand miles in the distance. Silence save for the occasional song of a bird or the chattering of a squirrel. Serenity like the whisper of the wind. Peace of a haven in the midst of turmoil. Yep, I have heard each of these descriptions and I have to agree that it is like this during the day. Nighttime, however, is quite the different story. Each spring, I get amused at the sheer cacophony that begins at dusk and carries on to dawn.
The little Frog Pond and the nearby canebrake are both homes to thousands of frogs of all kinds. At night these frogs start their chirping, croaking, trilling and otherwise yelling their fool heads off. This evening, I had company over for dinner and as soon as the sun went down behind the pines, all craziness broke loose. The surprised looks on folks' faces amuses me. Most folks do not realize just how loud frogs can be. Keep in mind that some of these critters are a mere three inches long stretched out to their full length! Those voices, however, could wake the dead, as my grandmother would have put it.
So, before you go think everything is all quiet and peaceful on the Bayou, take a listen to what goes on after dark. Also, keep in mind that although this is a video of nothing but blackness, this was actually taken looking out the window of my kitchen. With the windows open each night, the entire house is filled with this din! Turn up your volume as loud as you can get it to hear what goes on around here after dark! It is amazingly loud but I think I will keep it. City noises bother me....this does not.
