I don’t care what anyone says, Twitter is great. Today @endangeredfrogs started following me and it reminded me of how slow I was shifting a friend’s compost heap. Bizarre leap to make I know…but bear with me.
[tweetmeme source=”wildelycreative” http://www.URL.com%5D
It was a big heap, probably about ten tonnes, and had been there for about two years. I wasn’t looking forward to spreading it onto the large potato patch. With only four hands and two spades I figured it would take some time.
And it did, much longer than I thought. Not least because I kept screaming “STOP!” every two minutes to save a frog from the danger of the spade blades. My small holder friend knows I’m a bit nuts about frogs so, thankfully, he humoured me as I ran back and forth between the compost heap and the edge of the stream.
It took us about 12 hours to spread that compost, but I didn’t care. I must have saved about 70 frogs from getting sliced that day.
I’ve starting following @endangeredfrogs and @savethefrogs now. Not just because they reminded me of a day slogging over compost but because, deep down, I must have a certain affinity with our croaking friends.
I was about eight when I saw my very first, real live frog. We didn’t live near any water sources and I felt this frog seemed a bit lost. I figured he had wandered from the canal a mile away and couldn’t find his way back. I thought he must be missing his family and friends.
Dad said I was being daft. I cried…no, wailed. Any eight year old will tell you this is a site-proven technique to get a parent to do your bidding. It worked. We put the frog in a box, strapped it to the front of my bike and all peddled down to the canal. It was momentous re-introducing my new friend to the wild after his sojourn in our garden.
It’s been a while since I thought about my little friend. I wonder if this was my first act of conservation?
Picture credit: National Geographic News