Here is a vocalizing male Barking Treefrog, Hyla gratiosa. By a small margin, this is our largest native eastern treefrog.

The calls echoed one another from both shoulders of the country roadway upon which Patti and I stood in the darkness. We were well away from the glare of city lights, and in the darkness of a new moon the heavens were fairly atwinkle with myriad stars.

From above us came the nasal "peeeents" of a nighthawk. We could picture it cleaving the darkened skies on white-barred wings as it sought its repast of flying insects. An occasional "whrroooomm" (wind through wing feathers) would divulge to us the fact that as well as feeding the nighthawks were indulging in courtship dives.

Even louder and more pervasive than the sounds of the nocturnal birds were those of the amphibians. A chorus of coarse, porcine, grunts from out the marshes were the calls of pig frogs, Rana grylio. Named for its porcine like notes, the pig frog is nearly as large familiar bullfrog, R. catesbeiana.

Vocalizing with the pig frogs, were fair numbers of a species at the opposite extreme of the size spectrum. This was the pretty and very variable little hylid frog that is known commonly as the Florida cricket frog. Scientifically it answers to the name of Acris gryllus dorsalis. This elfin frog must certainly have derived its name from its size for I perceive no similarity between its pebble-like clicking call and the notes of even a very out-of-tune cricket of any species.

During our evening's perambulations, we were serenaded by lesser numbers of numerous other species as well. Accompanied by the dot-dash calls of pine woods treefrogs, Hyla femoralis, inquisitive barred owls asked "who-cooks-for-you, who-cooks-for-you-all?" Green treefrogs, Hyla cinerea, "quonked," and a single barking treefrog, H. gratiosa, voiced its hollow notes. Wherever there was even a trace of moisture, little grass frogs, Pseudacris ocularis, our smallest anuran species, tinkled animatedly. These tiny hylids, adult females of which top out at a whopping 11/16ths of an inch, are the smallest species of anuran in the United States, and among the smallest in the world.

If closely analyzed Mother Nature’s evening choruses will introduce you to what is for many an unsuspected facet of the surrounding world. And it’s FREE! Partake.