"Ah!" says Dad, finishing his breakfast read of the papers with his back to the open door, which leads to the garden, "I think we have frog activity in the top pond". "Ah...." comments Mum, "there's plenty of rurbling is there?"
None of us is sure that "rurbling" is a word, but it does have a certain charm and is certainly evocative of the sound of frogs.
Yes, the warm Spring sunshine has both Mum and Dad out pottering in the garden, clearing away old dead pots of winter-expired plants, nipping and trimming here and there with secateurs, and teasing out the odd weed. It is relaxing work and is done to the accompaniment of plenty of "rurbling". The hopping and swirling about attrcat my attention but I am warned off before I actually lep' into the water.
Later, at mid-morning, we spot the first spawn, with a very handsome Mother frog sitting amongst it, looking very proud of herself.
As well as frog nuptuals, Spring is very much here too for the birds, and our gardening is buzzed and overflown by the comings and goings of great-tits, robins, dunnocks, chaffinches and many many sparrows. Sparrow shortage? Not here we haven't. We've counted up to 78 in the bushes around the feeders before now.
Ribbit Ribbit
Deefer
