“Toonk, toonk, toonk, toonk.”

During a warm downpour I stood on the back porch for a few minutes listening and reveling at the sound.

The hollow “toonks” of H. gratiosa, the barking treefrog, were unmistakable. It was the third year I had heard this small chorus of the southeast’s largest native treefrog while standing on my back porch. They called from a small retention pond in an apartment complex a bit under a half mile from us. Only two or three had been heard in the spring of 2011. The number had grown to six or seven last year. And this year it sounded as if it had doubled again.



In their color-changing abilities, by the way, barking treefrogs are hylid chameleons. The same frog may be any one of several shades of green at one moment and tan or brown a minute or two later. The spots may be lighter or darker than the body color and be entirely of one color or dark-edged ocelli. Barkers often voice occasional calls from the canopy, but when breeding often vocalize while floating amidst dense emergent vegetation.

We had experienced a warm winter and were having a cold spring in northcentral Florida. It was now the third week of April and the winter frogs, the various chorus frogs and peepers, not yet realizing that seasonal warming was finally upon us, were still calling from suitable habitats. The green treefrogs that usually call from the tiny rubber-bottomed pond in our yard had not yet announced their presence. Although the southern toads had been foraging in the yard for weeks they had gathered at the pond to call on only one very rainy night a week earlier.

Only a moment earlier I had been exchanging Facebook comments with more northerly friends who were experiencing another spring snowstorm. Now I stood listening to a hylid that, to me, truly signified the advent of spring’s warming. I decided to pull up a chair and enjoy sounds nature offered, the sighing breezes, the steadily falling rain, and the treefrog chorus, for a while longer.

More photos under the jump...