Intense, high-pitched trills seemed to follow me home that afternoon.
The hum of my bike tires on pavement and the wind in my helmet didn’t drown
them out. When I pedaled past upland areas, enjoying the warm sunshine, a brief
silence would settle in. But as soon as I dipped down past a wetland again, the
sound rose up from among the blooming leatherleaf, sprouting cattails, and
budding water calla.
The toads were singing!
Every spring, warming temperatures and longer days trigger those warty
brown critters to try their hand at romance. As with warblers, hummingbirds,
and many other species, males arrive on the mating grounds well ahead of females
to establish their territories. Then the “boys” commence calling. With throats
inflated like balloons, they trill for 4 to 20 seconds at a time.
As with most frogs and toads, females choose a mate based on the length
and strength of the male’s trill, as well as the quality of his territory.
Therefore, it is worthwhile to a male frog or toad to expend a lot of energy in
calling. While studying gray tree frogs (another loud calling amphibian),
scientists discovered that they spend most of the night shouting aerobically at
about 60% of their maximum output. But when a female is near, they bump it up
to near 100% for a short time.
In order to accomplish these athletic feats of song, male frogs and
toads have highly developed body-trunk muscles. Packed with mitochondria, the
powerhouses of the cells, the singing muscles have the capacity for high
aerobic metabolism. Frogs and toads call for such a long time that their
muscles must switch from burning carbs to burning fats, just like human
endurance athletes.
Those muscles are used to drive air over the vocal chords, producing the
surprisingly loud calls. Some frogs and toads can be as loud as a lawn mower.
Luckily, they have an internal pressure system that keeps their own ear drums
from vibrating excessively and therefore prevents hearing loss in the shouter
himself.
In contrast, the silent female frogs and toads have much less body–trunk
muscle. Their specialization is laying eggs.
Although adult toads are mostly terrestrial, they lay their eggs in
water. Their favorite breeding habitats include shallow wetlands, ponds, lakes,
and slow-moving streams. Once a lady toad decides on a suitably musical mate
and approaches him, the male will climb onto her back and grip around her abdomen
with horny pads on this first and second toes. In this posture, called
“amplexus,” the male can fertilize the strings of eggs externally as she
releases them in two rows. A single female can lay 4,000 to 8,000 eggs,
connected in a long, spiraling tube of jelly from 20 to 66 feet long.
About as big as a blunt pencil tip, each egg is black on top and white
on the bottom. This type of camouflage, called “countershading,” makes the eggs
hard to see from both above (looking down at dark water) and from below
(looking up at bright sunshine.)
Just like the eggs, freshly metamorphosed toadlets and adult toads are
well camouflaged in their habitats, using a technique called “background
matching.” Toad skin can even change color from yellow to brown to black
depending on temperature, humidity, and stress. If a predator finds a toad, the
would-be killer gets a mouthful of nastiness. Glands in toads’ skin produce a
poisonous fluid that is harmful if swallowed or rubbed in the eyes. Toad
tadpoles have these same defensive chemicals.
A couple days after my noisy bike ride, I floated down an equally noisy
river. In patches along the river banks, the toads’ trilling chorus joined with
vociferous warblers, orioles, catbirds, and song sparrows, to create quite a
cacophony of reproductive fever.
Even after I shut myself in a moving car, I couldn’t seem to escape the
cacophony. Fiddle music played from a CD. The notes whirled and warbled with
emotions every bit as powerful as the toads, and quite similar in purpose. I
imagined a barn or dance hall full of people, twirling and smiling—and sizing
up potential mates—all in step (or out of step as the case may be) to the
lively music. In the end, maybe we are all a bit like the toads when we try our
hand at the age-old, springtime music of romance.
For over 45 years, the Cable Natural
History Museum has served to connect you to the Northwoods. Come visit us in
Cable, WI! The current exhibit, “Nature’s Superheroes—Adventures with
Adaptations,” opens in May 2014 and will remain open until March 2015.
Find us on the web at
www.cablemuseum.org to learn more about our exhibits and programs. Discover us
on Facebook, or at our blogspot,
http://cablemuseumnaturalconnections.blogspot.com.
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