My speculations came to end as a toad started up to my immediate left. I slowly turned my head and looked for him – there he was, perched on a bit of floating wood, where no toad had been just a few minutes ago. He must have crawled up out of the water while I was woolgathering about wallows. I watched as he inflated his throat sac and let loose his quivering, quavering trill. Nearby, two more toads poked their noses out of the water and swam closer to the singer; one of them eventually started his own song, but the other did not, indicating it was either a female or a male without the full fit of procreation upon him.

Off to my right several more males joined in, and as I looked for them I caught sight of another toad just a few feet from me, partially hidden by a curtain of algae. He was in the upright calling position, and his throat sac was slightly distended, but he did not sing again – I was too close, and so we just watched each other. I noted his mottled underside was a pale yellow, and from my angle, the thick projection above his eye gave him a frowning, stern look. A bit of anthropomorphism on my part, but I was interrupting his one shot this year to pass on his genes, and if our roles were reversed, I certainly would be cranky about possibly sitting out the season.

Off to my left the first toad I had spotted seemed to be leading the songfest most of the time. He would start his trill, and the others would join in right after him. All the while the gusts of wind continued, and I noticed that the lead toad often seemed to synchronize the start of his trill with each gust – he rarely kicked off a chorus during the quiet interludes. This was food for thought, and something to research and perhaps learn more about later. These small moments may not hold much in terms of exciting, exotic discoveries, but they do contain layers of meaning and mystery, if one chooses to look.

I took a few more pictures and some video, and then left the toads to their business of making more toads. That night rain passed through the area; I expect the male toads put forth their best vocal material, and I’m sure the females gave their silent answer.

Short video of Bufo americanus calling