Sponge frog

Blueberry Hill Farm is nestled up against the beautiful and sprawling Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. In the mornings, the surrounding forest and hills are almost always enshrouded in fog, making it feel like the land around me is waking up at about the same slow speed as me.

Forest creatures regularly visit and travel through the farm fields. Red-tailed hawks and other raptors can often be seen flying overhead. As I wash berry buckets at the sink in the barn I can spy on the swallows flying away from and back to the nest they built just under the roof overhang in front of the window. I enjoy sharing the land with all of these creatures, even the elk who are not exactly careful about where they step as they pass through in the night.

Today I had my most surprising encounter when I lifted a sponge from the dish drainer and two little eyes were looking back up at me from the sponge holder. I don’t know how—or why—this little guy made his way into the barn, up onto the sink, and then underneath a sponge when he has miles of coastal woodland to explore instead, but I was looking right into the eyes of a beautiful little Pacific chorus frog (Pseudacris regilla).

I have a deep fondness for these frogs, who earn their name by filling the night air with peeps and ribbits at a volume that defies their diminutive size. In this area, if you live anywhere near a creek or a marsh, or any healthy body of fresh water (which most of us do), these frogs are the soundtrack of your daily life.

I needed to move my sponge frog to a more hospitable location than the barn. He was surprisingly still as I lifted the dish drainer and walked out towards the field. I found a spot far enough away from the neighbors curious chickens that he would have a solid chance to find a safe, new outpost without any chicken mishaps. Placed safely back in the grass I had a chance to fully admire his beautiful markings and delicate legs. After walking just a few feet away my eyes could no longer find him and he has hopefully returned to a creek, or a marsh, where he is chorusing with the others.