This article first appeared in the January 2026 edition of Birdwatching Magazine
Discounting cats (if only!) and birds (never gonna happen), Common Frogs sit at the top of the food chain in my postage-stamp yard. Foxes haven’t found a way back in yet, and mice seem to be occasional winter visitors.
On my nightly Frog Safari (I’m taking photos to see just how many individuals are in my tiny yard) I heard the underfoot scrunch of snail shells; they come out in the rain to dance with slugs, and the frogs follow to swallow their supper.
Our pond was rammed with water snails that ate most of the frog-spawn and the water surface had long disappeared beneath an overgrown water lily and an even bigger Golden Club (Orontium aquaticum). We never replaced the goldfish when the last one died a decade ago… leaving the pond for the wildlife. Despite the occasional visit by damselflies, nothing ever stayed and laid eggs. My mad lavender also obscured much of it too. We cut back the lavender after the last bee waved farewell and bit the bullet… or rather hired an expert. He cleaned out the deep silt, cut back the plants, culled the majority of snails and fitted a filter. We now have a crystal-clear pond with native weed and marginals. Wandering out after dark one late summer evening we heard the plopping of half a dozen frogs.
I see the odd frog when shifting a planter or weeding around plants, and was pleased to come across a couple of thumbnail sized chaps. That lifted my spirits as it meant some of this year’s tadpoles made it despite the snails. It made me wonder just how many frogs our postage-stamp can support. Having staid Hawkeye’s hand from scattering slug-pellets a few years back there is plenty of frog food out there. But it is a tiny and virtually impenetrable urban space. Surely those half a dozen plops was the entire population rejoicing in the newly open water?
Not a bit of it. It turns out that there are at least thirty adults. How do I know? Well, for a month or so I’ve paid nightly visits to the pond. En route I photograph any frogs I come across. I’ve found that their colours and patterns are as unique as our fingerprints. I’ve been naming the frogs according to their patterns so I can check if they are known already. So, I can look up the photo of ‘ChevronNeckGreenBelly’ to see if my last shot is him or a newbie. I check ‘BlackBumLeft’ and ‘FatFreckleBack’, ‘LighteningLegs’ and ‘ThreeGrapesLeft’ for doppelgangers.
I’ve found that ‘Stinky’ has a nightly bathe in the concave handholds of the manhole cover, so we fill it with water when its dry. ‘LighteningLegs’ loves to lay in a fold of pond-liner where the filter outlet forms a mini jacuzzi for him. I say ‘him’ as he does give unseasonal croaks occasionally. ‘ZebraLegs’ like the end of the rainwater downpipe, maybe hoping for a shower, and PlaneJane turns up anywhere from the back door to the back gate.
I’ve not seen any more of this year’s brood, nor have I come across any toadlets. (We were gifted 150 toad tadpoles, so hopefully, some will make it to adulthood). I’ll keep monitoring, as I wonder how long frogs live?
It’s been an education. For example, I had no idea that adult frogs can breathe through their skin, allowing them to spend days in torpor underwater.
I’m hoping the refurbished pond is to their liking for breeding as well as nightly swims. Judging by the past, they should start croaking for a mate not long after Christmas and be spawning by February.
