For as long as I can remember frogs and toads have fascinated me. When I was a child at primary school in Ardnamurchan, the place we always found the first frog spawn of the year was in big pools by the old sheep fank in among coconut-scented gorse bushes.

If the spawn was earlier than usual and we had forgotten to take a jar or bucket, we simply took off our wellies and filled them with it, carefully carrying it as we wobbled back, steering our bikes by balance with no hands. Each year there was a large tank for our treasure in the classroom and during lessons, time was spent studying the enthralling stages as tiny tadpoles emerged into the water and began feeding on large chunks of steak given to us by the dinner lady.

We tied these delicacies on to pieces of string so that after a few days as the water made them turn a horrible grey colour, they could be replaced with a fresh chunk. Tadpoles are omnivorous and ours thrived on their protein rich diet. Today’s children have little experience of such excitement and it is no longer encouraged to collect spawn since frogs and toads have dwindled drastically. More and more wet areas are being drained and built on, and copious amounts of weedkiller, pesticides and fertilisers are used. Predators, including herons, foxes, otters, buzzards and snakes, account for many, and thousands are killed on our busy roads.

Though they are always thought of as purely aquatic, it is actually only during the breeding season that both frogs and toads spend much time in water. Every year after hibernation, using ancestral migration routes, these extraordinary amphibians travel en masse to ancient breeding haunts, driven by the urge to reproduce and the scent of glycolic acid emitted by pond algae. Some nights travelling home over a bleak stretch of moor I find myself doing a hazardous frog slalom, trying to avoid them as they litter the road. Yet hundreds are squashed and lie melded into the tar. Later in the season the road will be covered with tiny frogs and toads making driving hazardous once more. It will be at least five seasons before these minuscule creatures are ready to breed themselves.

Frogs and toads are ancient creatures steeped in folklore and their life cycle is one of nature’s great phenomena. From the production of literally thousands of eggs to the growth of the fish-like tadpole that soon develops into a perfect tiny frog or toadlet is an awe-inspiring metamorphosis. Depending on the climate, habitat and food availability, the tadpoles will grow hind legs after just six weeks and front ones after approximately 12. Frogs can be found from sea level to as high as 600 metres. They live by ponds, streams and lochs, and in gardens, and over the winter find warm sheltered ditches in which to hibernate, absorbing enough oxygen through their skins to survive. They vary enormously in colour depending on their habitat. In our area, where the ground is frequently acidic and heavily mossy, some may be the usual greenish-brown while others are spectacularly orange.

Misunderstood

These extraordinary amphibians have intrigued country children for centuries but both the frog and toad have also been greatly misunderstood. Some think of them as horrible and slimy yet ironically there is probably more slime involved in use of a bar of soap or bottle of shower gel than you will ever experience while touching them. A toad’s skin does excrete toxins to help protect it, and may make a dog temporarily foam at the mouth if it picks one up. But there are no records of anyone ever coming to serious grief after handling a toad, though they have sometimes been seen as evil creatures of ill omen and doom largely due to their appearance and thick warty skins. They are benign and unfairly described as hideous.

From records I have kept for the last 10 years in Highland Perthshire, it is usually during the last fortnight of February that I find the first frog spawn of the season. One pond has a magnetic draw and I find myself reverting to childhood again, absorbed totally by the brief interlude of amphibian activity.

Fertility dance

For just a few short days this pond is transformed into a soup of fornicating frogs. Hundreds jostle for position. Small males pile on top of the bloated bodies of females engorged with eggs, nubile, rubbery legs thrash as heads appear with their huge bulbous eyes, headlamps staring from the nutrient-rich murk. The rhythmic croaking of the males drifts over the pulsating water as they grasp tightly to any available female in their bid to fertilise the gelatinous egg mass. My approach must be planned. Any false movement or shadow over the water and they all instantaneously go under. And then after a brief silent wait jackin- the-boxes reappear and the pond continues its frenetic frog fandango. On the banks, orgyexhausted frogs quickly become a succulent takeaway for predators. For the patient craggy grey heron standing sentinel on the bank, this is a time of plenty, a time of two for the price of one, and these wily birds take full advantage of the bonanza. En route to spawning grounds frogs frequently leave their eggs at random, laying them in puddles that soon dry up. Toads tend to place theirs carefully in suitable ponds, attaching their tidy chain of two rows of eggs to suitable plant material. They also breed a little later in the season. Some nights in mid-summer dozens of toads crawl round our large dung heap feeding on emerging fly larvae. They should be encouraged into any garden as their pest-destroying prowess is unsurpassed. Toads can be extremely long-lived and have strong homing instincts. They were once put in cellars underneath houses to keep them pest free and there are records of some living for over 30 years.

The emergence of hundreds of young frogs and toads on the move from their birthplace on rainy nights gave rise to the belief that it was literally raining amphibians. The collective noun for frogs is an army, and for toads it is a knot. Recently there have been major concerns about diminishing numbers of amphibians and in a bid to raise awareness Scotland’s first official frog hotel was opened earlier this spring in Redhall Walled Gardens, close to the Water of Leith.

This two-tiered structure aims to give frogs a safe environment in which to breed and lay their eggs, a specially made compost café facility, and a safe place to hibernate. The idea may sound bizarre but it shows that we need to be aware of the growing problems for such important creatures. This is part of a wider plan instigated by CSV (Community Service Volunteers) Action Earth Campaign, which encourages groups to take part in projects to help their local environment. Hopefully people will be inspired to provide other such structures all over the country in future so that the frog will be totally safe to continue its annual wooing.

field facts

There are three species of frog in Britain, the Common, Marsh and Pool (the latter two only found in England). Two native species of toad live here: the Common and the rare Natterjack which in Scotland is only found in small pockets of the south-west. It is easily distinguished by its yellow dorsal stripe and diminutive size.

Contact Action Earth, Tel: 0121 328 7455 www.csv.org.uk