My grandmother loved when the frogs would sing in the late winter/early spring. It’s a sure harbinger of approaching spring in Bellingham, Washington – the male tree frogs move from their overwintering locations in the trees and rotting logs and find the nearest water, where they begin to sing after the sun goes down. Loudly. If you live near a pond or lake, or where there’s standing water, the sound of all those frisky male frogs can be nearly deafening.
But it’s a friendly sound. A sound I grew up with, that always makes me think of my grandmother who loved it so dearly all her years. Indeed, these little fellows with the big, big voices, have been singing the spring in for generation after generation, here and throughout much of the Pacific Northwest.