Yesterday I traveled to a swamp near Fredenburg where I monitor a stream. As I pulled my bucket and secchi tube out of my car I could hear frogs calling for the first time this year. The sounds of frogs is music to my ears. Winter is finally over! The sound of male frogs croaking their love song is proof that spring has sprung. Wood frogs call only two weeks a year and I feel lucky to hear them.
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1965
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