My Peeps

I couldn’t sleep last night. Peepers! Brave, plaintive, calling out all night for a mate. They’re early this year, as responsive to global warming as all nature. But I’m happy to hear them, the throng of them in the marsh surrounding the cabin. (It’s the males making the noise.)

Pseudacris crucifer

Spring peepers try to outdo each other when their numbers are larger, and make a more aggressive call. All together, nothing can drown they out! Their only foe here in our marsh: the snakes, which are just now beginning to stir.

As big as your thumbnail, they are one of the world’s smallest frogs. On Martha’s Vineyard they are called “pinkletinks.”