A Chorus of Tiny Singers

Finally! This week's rain and storms have finally driven off the last cold grumbles of winter. The world is suddenly lush and green with the bright, sharp colors of new leaves. And when I stepped outside today there was something else - a high, sweet sound. For the first time this spring, the air was filled with the chorus of spring peepers.

I took a deep breath and smiled. At last! I look forward to this moment every year. More than seeing a robin or the first flowers, that sound means that spring is well and truly here.

What are spring peepers, you ask? They're shy little frogs only about an inch long. The males sport an impressive throat bubble that bulges out with every peep. They nestle in the grass by the edges of marshes and in the low, wet areas soggy with melted snow. They all hatch at once, calling in a chorus, competing to find a mate. After a brief time together, the female lays her eggs in the water and they move on. So it's a fleeting song, only heard for a few days in early spring in the evenings and on grey days.

Lest you think they're cute, keep in mind that they've been hibernating in the frozen ground for months of bitter cold. Their bodies even make a chemical like antifreeze to keep them alive. And when they finally thaw out and emerge, they have to compete with hundreds of others to find a mate. Those calls aren't a sweet chorus in honor of spring - they're life finding life, determined to go on. They've only a few days to find each other. Then the days warm up and the window for their eggs hatching closes. Soon, all too soon, their courtship is over and the nights are quiet again.

I wander into the grass and stroll into the meadow. There! I can hear one just in front of me. Oops - too close. Now he's stopped. I'm just a shadow to him, but he's wary. I move off, and behind me he starts his song again.

It's been a strange, cold, stormy spring this year, and I've been worried they somehow wouldn't even come out at all. How sad that would be, a spring without this sweet song.

Life finding life, making life. Those tiny singers don't know or care who we are. All they know is the world they live in. And we don't really know them either. Mostly we know the sound, the glimpse - and then, when we come too close, the silence.

Spring came late this year, and it will most likely be brief. Till then, for these fleeting few days, I'll savor the sound of their calls.

Let's do all we can to ensure their song never fades into silence forever.