Spring so far

It has been a banner year for amphibians, to judge from the great migration that took place on a warm rainy night a couple of weeks ago.

The children and I went out to help spotted salamanders and frogs cross the road, and found more of them in more places than in previous years. Not only salamanders, but large numbers of wood frogs, spring peepers, American toads and even a red eft and a pickerel frog were out on that night of nights. Now the vernal pools and wetlands in our area resound with the wood frog chorus and peepers calling to each other in the dark.

It has been an early spring for other creatures. I have heard reports from two weeks ago of timber rattlesnakes already basking on secluded ledges — a full month before their normal emergence.  I hear that the herring are running in Massachusetts, and the ospreys are just behind.

On the other hand, this was a very brief sugar season at Abbott’s Sapworks, with the backyard maple tree shutting down before I had even secured a pint of that marvelous amber. It was simply too warm to maintain the required freeze / thaw conditions to keep the sap flowing.

Red maples are starting to flower, but most of what is leafing out in the shrub layer of field edge and forest is invasive. The sickly green of barberry grabs all the light that filters from the leafless canopy.  

My rhubarb patch is up, but so too are innumerable rosettes of non-native garlic mustard that I’ve been fighting back from the edge of my yard for all they years we’ve lived here.  You can eat garlic mustard, but never enough to make a dent in the seedbank.

In the coming weeks, the woodlands will glory in the early spring ephemeral wildflowers — trillium, blood root, trout lily and Dutchman’s britches, to name but a few. It is a good time to be a forager. The wild leeks or ramps are already in full leaf if you know where to find them. There will be morels soon, and shad roe from unimpeded rivers for those with a taste for it.

On the night of the great amphibian migration, we left the road and walked by flashlight through the dark woods to a pond where all was silent but for the dripping needles of pines.  There in the shadowy water, though, were amphibians with better things to do with their time than sing.  

My daughter and son saw salamanders swimming in search of each other, and innumerable wood frogs coupling on the surface or in short dives below.  

My children are old hands at amphibian-watching, but witnessing the procreation that is the objective of their overland journey was new to them. They were enthralled to see what the fuss was truly all about, spotting egg masses newly attached to submerged branches.

Tim Abbott is program director of Housatonic Valley Association’s Litchfield Hills Greenprint. His blog is at greensleeves.typepad.com.

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