A couple years ago my job tranferred me to Summerville, SC, a lovely town about 20 miles inland from the Charleston harbor. I moved into a brand new apartment complex that was actually still under construction in a forested, swampy area that hadn't been developed up until then.

In the spring and summer after dark, literally thousands of these little guys would come out of the woods and swamps to play. They loved the streetlights in the parking lots and the safety lighting in the apartment breezeways. You truly had to watch your step to keep from squishing the little fellers. It was great fun. I would sit down on the ground and stare at them for what seemed like hours.

I've moved back to the mountains since, but I will never forget the tree frogs in Summerville.

Peepers!

When I was a kid, my mom & brother & I would put a lit tea candle on a small plank of wood and gently float it out into the vernal puddles, hoping to get the little fellows to climb aboard where we could see them.

Let me save you a few hours of sitting quietly in the March night, feeling the icy water seep into yer sneakers:

It doesn't work.

(makes for nice memories, though)

You people and your supposed "spring".
It's snowing here.
Bah humbug.

Peepers here in New Jersey, Miko! And thanks to your post last spring, I finally know what's making that noise. I like hearing them, it truly announces that spring is here. Of course, I'm a couple of blocks down from where they're at, so they aren't as loud here.