This is the only green Florida chorus frog that Jake or I have seen in a lifetime of herping.

The chorus frogs, genus Pseudacris of the family Hylidae, vary in size from just over ½ inch in size (the little grass frog, P. ocularis, of southeastern USA) to 2 inches (the California and the Pacific treefrogs, P. cadaverina and P. regilla respectively). Although a couple of other Pacific Coast species do attain a 2” length, the lion’s share of the species and subspecies are adult at a slender 1 ¼” in length.

Among these latter is our little southern chorus frog, Pseudacris n. nigrita and its often synonymized subspecies, the Florida chorus frog, P. n. verrucosa. This latter, whether or not valid, was differentiated from the nominate form by having a broken dorsal pattern rather than complete, although irregularly edged, stripes and a dark spotted, rather than an all-white, upper lip.

One of the draws (for me) when we moved to Gainesville, FL was the fact that the characteristic ratcheting calls of southern chorus frogs could be heard in many places well within the city limits. Sadly, today, 25 years later, most of those choruses have been silenced, the ephemeral waters from which they seasonally emanated now having been replaced by apartments, subdivisions, and parking lots.

Having commented time and again on the absence of chorus frogs in the city, on a recent rainy night herping trip, Jake and I were delighted when one county westward we heard these little winter choristers first in the dozens and then by the hundreds. Despite the loud choruses it took a while for us to actually see any of the vocalizers, because these like most chorus frogs, most often call while hunkered down, with only a nose showing, in grass clumps growing in shallow water. There, their striped patterns and gray and black colors blend perfectly with the background hues and shadows.

So, if you’re driving along on a humid or rainy night and hear sounds like many people dragging their thumbnails over the teeth of a pocket comb, stop and acquaint your self with these little beings of the winter wetlands.