It's Just a Frog...

by John B. Smith

I was sitting in our Gator, the afternoon – early May – was clear and warm enough. The Gator and I were on the dam of a vernal pool, looking east over a stretch of open water. Over there is a stand of last year’s cattails that had been partially grazed by several muskrats who had made the pool their home. The result was a loose, floating mass of browning stalks of the plants that made a semi-solid layer on the water – solid enough for a bird to stand on but with plenty of interspersed open water. I was lazily letting the scene float in front of me when a sudden movement caught my eye.

Early Actions

It was a Green Heron, about fifty feet away standing on the floating cattails. A sudden movement that I had only indirectly “seen,” the heron snatched a large Bullfrog and was holding it upright by one front leg. The Green Heron is one of our favorite birds – not really beautiful but interesting in its dusky dark greens, tans, reds, browns, and blacks and with its hunched shoulders and large protruding beak. In an earlier encounter I had witnessed in the same location the interactions of a mom and chick for nearly a half-hour and had captured some of their interactions in a video. On another occasion, I had recorded a much shorter video of a Green Herron doing a bit of fishing. The current encounter would turn out to last 10-15 minutes, but my only means of recording it was my mental images, recollections, and, ultimately, reflections on what I had seen.

Viewing the action through binoculars, I was struck by the surprising behavior of the heron as it repeatedly and rapidly dunked the frog in the water. At first, the frog was being dunked rear-feet first and the bird was continuously shifting its hold slightly every few dunks. After several minutes, it shifted its hold to the body and rear legs and began to dunk it headfirst, sometimes holding the frog’s head under water for several seconds. I finally realized that the bird was apparently in the process of killing the frog or at least incapacitating it.


Later Actions

At some point I became aware, through my binoculars, that the color of the frog had changed, from dark green-black to light green, almost white. What had changed, of course, was not the color of the frog but its position or orientation – the bird had flipped it onto its back in its grip and what I was seeing was the belly of the frog. I also noticed that the frog seemed shorter head to toe as the heron hunched over it. I finally realized that the bird had the head and shoulders of the frog in its mouth. It took several minutes of slow, deliberate motions, but the bird was swallowing the frog. By this time the frog had stopped wriggling and was not moving at all so far as I could see. After a couple of minutes only the rear legs of the frog were visible, at its hips. And then, in a deliberate, head-extended straight up motion, the heron swallowed the frog whole.

Shortly later, the heron took a couple of sips of water and began a deliberate, step-by-step walk some 10-12 feet to another area where I could tell that it had hunched down, slipped out of my sight, but was still there. With the heron, frog inside, out of sight, my attention was diverted by a lone Sandpiper that had showed up and taken cover behind a bent, last-year’s cattail stalk. I guess it was hunting too but nothing happened while I watched. Nearby were a couple of Snapping Turtles, taking the afternoon sun atop a Muskrat lodge.


Reflections

With not much action happening, my eye also wandered to a number of other frogs scattered around the pool, all absolutely still, watching. And my mind began to play over what I had just seen. The more I wandered over those memories, the more different dimensions they began to take on for me. My first encounter had been reflexive, then interest, then the dawning understanding of the drama of what I was seeing. The frog apparently understood the threat and was fighting for its life. The bird was fixated, intent on the meal it was about to consume. And I? I was watching in fascination at this life and death struggle. It was 2,000+ years ago and I was in the Coliseum. Not lion and slave, but heron and frog – a vastly different scale, but no less primordial.


In the days since, my mind frequently darts back to this place or into dark corners or embarrassing profundities that are known to everyone but in the moment felt fresh. I don’t think it is any more or any less than the fleeting awareness we all have of our own mortality. It doesn’t really mean that much. After all, it was just a frog . . .

But it’s Complicated

ChicoryLane is an ecological reserve near Spring Mills protected by a Conservation Easement held by Clearwater Conservancy. Its 68 acres are actively managed for conservation.


The landscape is natural and scenic. It includes wetlands and meadows, streams, remnant and successional forests, and a grassland. This diversity of habitats is especially inviting to birds and butterflies. A system of mowed trails makes most of the property accessible to walkers.