Dear Readers, it has been a dank and miserable couple of days here in East Finchley, but when I popped out to the shed last night I could hear the frogs singing (finally) – the males have been around for a month now, but the females have finally taken the hint, to much excitement.

And today, finally, there’s frog spawn. And all sorts of frog-related goings on.

Honestly, just look at them. Where do they go to after the breeding season? I have absolutely no idea. A few hang around in the pond, but most of them just seem to disappear. They could be in the woodpile beside the shed, they might have wriggled into the dark, damp space under the wooden stairs, but wherever they are they’re not very obvious. The tadpoles are, though, and if I don’t get ahead of that duckweed this week it will soon be full of little wriggly amphibians so clearing it will be something of a challenge.

The one in the photo below was actually calling, though he froze mid-croak when he spotted me. Who knew that they were so shy?

Just look at them all! They will all initially spawn in the shallow bit at the end of the pond, next to the ‘beach’, which is a bit foolish because as the water level goes down, the tadpoles end up stranded, unless some kind person (i.e. me) notices and washes them into the water with a bucket of water.

And in other news, I looked out of the window yesterday to see a squirrel getting tucked into the squirrel-proof feeder, having somehow removed the lid from the top. Did I not put it on properly, or have they learned how to twist it off? Only time will tell.

The squirrel-proof feeder with lid intact.

And finally a lone parakeet continues to visit the seed feeder, and a very tough bird she is too, though not as tough as Rambo the feral pigeon. Here she is seeing off a collared dove, and she’s seen off a woodpigeon too.

So even on a drizzly, murky day there’s always something to see, and who could resist those little frog faces? They seem somehow so defenceless and so single-minded, but if you ever pick one up to move them to safety (they don’t like being handled and so I only do it in an emergency) you’d be amazed how strong those back legs are. The sound of frogs singing is the official start of spring for me. Now all I need to hear is a chiff-chaff, and I’ll be in business.