Suzanne Matheson
As an enthusiastic student of the natural world, I share my explorations of all that is wild with all of you — teacher, parent, and child!
Early Spring . . .
What wakens me?
From long slumber,
under logs and loosened bark,
what stirs me to consciousness?
Ahhh, the warmth.
It makes the blood flow,
and lifts the earthy scents up from below,
awakening all my senses.
I’m on the move, beckoned forward,
through snowy patch and leaf debris,
I leap, toward still,
quiet pooling waters.
Web-footed, I swim a little.
Bulbous-toed, I climb,
and find my rest in chilly, rain-soaked
shrub and dried up clumps of grass.
Here I’m safe, from foes of fin and feathers.
Here, with rapid tongue and gaping mouth,
keen of sight and sound, I eat,
quick food in flight!
I’ve found my niche. I claim my spot.
With shifting light, I send my message,
through the cooling air. A trilling,
peep . . . peep . . . peep.
I’m not alone. Others gather.
And in their chosen spots,
expansively, they also trill,
peep . . . peep . . . peep.
Now taking turns, for females dear,
to find us where we stay.
He says, “peep”, and I say, “peep”.
We all say, “peep” and “peep”.
The air’s now filled with song!
Warming breeze and cool spring rains.
From dusk, well into dark,
with evening chorus, high piping whistle,
in unison, we celebrate!
“peep . . peep . . peep . . peep . .
peep . . peep . . peep . . peep . .
peep . . peep . . peep . . peep . .”
In the Eastern Region of North America, Spring Peeper is the first frog you are likely to hear. These chorus frogs must begin their mating calls early, for they lay their eggs in temporary pools of water created by the melting snow. Sitting by one of these pools in the early hours of the evening, you will find their chorus deafening!
