The Toads are Back
As we leave the wet of the last few months behind us and creep cautiously into spring, many people will be looking forward to hearing the soaring skylark, smelling the blossom on the trees and maybe even the first glimpse of adders coming out of hibernation.
For an alternative to this traditional scene, I would like to extol the virtues of another of spring’s emergents, The Common Toad. The toad has long been derided as an ugly wart-covered and unloved creature who, in folklore, has long been associated with witches and magic, where there has always been an eye of a toad or other ill-acquired body part ending up in the occasional potion. Toads we’re even derided by Shakespeare, where in Richard III, Queen Margaret calls the king a “poisonous hunch-backed toad” to emphasise his apparent grotesque appearance.
The eighteenth-century taxonomist Carl Linnaeus, whilst devising the modern system of scientific names for all flora and fauna, had such detestation for his rival, the Comte de Buffon, that he named the toad after him, giving it the name Bufo bufo to taunt him in perpetuity
Toads are, I believe, one of the most amazing spectacles to be observed at this time of year. The adults will emerge from their overwinter hibernation spots, be they in burrows, log piles, or, as commonly found, in one of Mendip’s miles of drystone walls. They make their way en masse towards any area of water that may be big enough for their spawning, where the males will grab anything resembling a female. If you put your hand in the water, they sometimes try to latch on to it, but more often than not, the correct target is acquired. The lucky male will have a female all to himself, where he will latch his front legs around her neck, for as long as the breeding process takes. As in many cases, pheromones seem to overtake all other senses; it is not uncommon to see a poor female with four or more hopeful males latched on in a mass-breeding ball. In these cases, it is not uncommon for all parties involved to drown as it seems the goal of mating overtakes that of survival.
George Orwell, author of 1984 and Animal Farm was a great extoller of the virtues of the toad, In Some Thoughts on the Common Toad (1946), he commented on their emergence as “the most appealing sign of the coming spring” which he thought all the more special as “Unlike the skylark and the primrose, ‘has never had much of a boost from poets”. Orwell was particularly enamoured with Spring.
Local ponds and other wet areas will be covered in swathes of toad spawn encasing tiny black dots, which over the following days or weeks will slowly develop into tiny tadpoles before eventually hatching out into the water. It is really important that we do not collect this spawn for our own ponds, as this disturbs the surface layer, which is essentially sacrificial to protect the layers below, exposing them to both predators and the weather, neither of which bodes well. If you want toads in your garden, build a pond, and if conditions are right, they will find it.
The hatchling tadpoles will develop first into ever-growing versions of themselves, before sprouting legs, first back, then front, followed by losing their gills and starting to breathe air like adults. The tails shrink back until they are tiny versions of their parents. At this point, they will leave the water and head off to start the rest of their terrestrial lives in the walls, woods and other damp places, where they are safe and have plenty of snails, beetles and other invertebrates to keep them fed.
If you are lucky enough to witness a mass emergence, it will seem as if the paths are pulsing in front of you, as hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny toads make their way into the wide world with their only plan being to eat and survive to return to the same breeding ground in years to come. Most won’t make it, but the ones that do will carry on a cycle repeated for many millions of years.
Chances are you won’t be looking for these happenings, but if you do come across them, take the time to sit for a while and absorb the sights and sounds of the alternative star of spring.