The skies opened and the deluge began. There was no easing into it. Within minutes, the afternoon sun in which anoles and tortoises had been basking had been obliterated by leaden clouds. Thunder rumbled and lighting speared the heavens. Torrential rains were falling - 2 and a half inches in just under one hour.



By the time darkness had enveloped us, our little artificial pond on the hill was freshened, overflowing, and echoing with the rapidly pulsed and oft repeated trills of southern toads, Bufo terrestris.

But it was from across the road in the newly opened Sweetwater Wetlands Park that the true anuran cacophony had begun. Tiny marble-sized narrow-mouthed toads, Gastrophryne carolinensis, were present in some numbers, but their peenting calls were virtually overwhelmed by the vocalizations of the two larger, dominant treefrogs: the green and the barking (Hyla cinerea and H. gratiosa, respectively) that had gathered by the dozens, perhaps in the hundreds in the newly created temporary pools.

With favorable breezes the loud choruses, the "wonks" and "hollow barks", of these 2 beautiful hylids could be heard from our back deck more than a half mile away.

Need I mention that it is for these storms that we wait anxiously each year, for with each year's storm arrival we are enchanted anew by the anuran activity they induce.