Toads love gardens. No doubt that is why I often find them in mine. Food abounds amongst the thick of thriving vegetation, a wonderful array of earthworms, crickets, slugs, moths, and other small creatures. Toad food all.
Before the garden, the pond
It starts with males singing from the water, longing for females.
Each male sings a vibratory call on one pitch, lasting a few seconds to half a minute. His song may begin as a solo, but soon other males join in, each on a slightly different pitch. The songs pause, resume, alternate and overlap.
Each is a solo designed to entice a mate, but together they make a group performance.
Song of American Toads, recordist Diane Porter
The combined songs create harmonies and subtle melodies.
I recorded this chorus while standing among the willows at the edge of my pond. I could not see the toads, but their music was all around me. I found it strangely thrilling.
A female toad listens to the songs and swims toward her chosen mate.
Amplexus
Toads are frogs, and like other frogs they breed in water. Males are smaller than females, about half the size, or even less. The male hugs her from the back with his front legs, getting the best grip he can.
Now they are bound in amplexus. Their embrace may last a few minutes or as long as 24 hours. It stimulates the female to lay thousands of eggs in a long chain. The male’s sperm fertilizes the eggs as they emerge.
The eggs hatch into pollywogs within a few days and develop into toads in the water. The parents don’t stick around. They are free to go to field, woods, or garden to take their ease through the summer.
Parenting is over for the year, and all a toad has to do is eat and avoid being eaten. The garden is grocery and safeguard against attack from above and all around.
Toad in winter
After a summer of luxurious feasting, a toad slowly digs with its back feet, lowering itself down into the soil. It must get deep enough to keep from freezing in winter.
Where I live, that’s a couple of feet into the earth. The toad becomes dormant, survives the winter, and emerges again in spring.
Sometimes I see a toad in fall as it descends into the soil near my garden.
Friends
One day, during a summer rain, a big American Toad was squatting on the stone walk by my garden. I reached for her. Speed was not actually needed. She did not leap away. She allowed herself to be picked up. The size of a big, ripe peach, she filled my hand, placid and soft.
I put her down among the Wild Petunias. She took a slow step and eyed me. We knew each other.
Lovely toads! I saw ours this morning, hunkered down by the watering bowl we've set down for small creatures. Thank you for the delightful photos, audio--and narrative, too!
delightful friends!