Listen for Love Songs

As a child I grew up in a densely populated suburban Bay Area town and if there were frogs who sang in our neighborhood I never heard them. I was 10 years old the first time I hiked into a meadow and learned what a chorus of spring frogs sounds like. We were on an alpine trail in the mountains surrounding Lake Tahoe and though there were few planes that flew over this wild area the sound from a distance reminded me of jet engines. The closer we got to the meadow the more the noise began to differentiate into many sounds and when at last we emerged from the woods into a verdant field of green grass and sparkling ponds, the chirps of a million tiny frogs became evident in a near-deafening chorus.

The awe of that first encounter renews itself every spring when I visit Huntley Meadows, a county park not far from my home in Alexandria, VA. Last Sunday I took my first spring wander onto the boardwalk that winds through the marsh. At first, I did not hear the frogs I am used to hearing in late April and thought it might be too cold for them to sing. I listened instead to the red-winged blackbirds trilling, the ducks quacking, the geese honking, and the new spring leaves shaking themselves out in the evening breeze. I found a bench and sat still with my eyes closed to tune into the auditory landscape, enjoying the "fwap, fwap, fwap" of a Canada goose digging for something with his beak in the marsh mud behind me. Suddenly one creaky croak emerged from just below my feet under the walkway. I stayed frozen. Another croak answered behind me. Then another in front of me. At first about 7 voices could be distinctly heard. Then one-by-one more chimed in until the whole wetland was thrumming.

When I first heard this phenomenon at the age of 10, I didn't know that these complex amphibian utterances were actually passionate love songs. But now I know these melodies lead to tadpoles. And frogs belt them out with a fierceness! They're not songs meant for me, but they mean something to me. That chorus hits like acupuncture deep in my brain. I revel in the chance to witness a song both ancient and new.

What love songs can you listen for today? The hushed murmurs of lovers on the train? Birdsong, or bees buzzing? The humming of your partner in the shower? Squeals of laughter from a toddler? Listen for the love songs, and if you can't hear any, belt out one of your own.