You could live your whole life and never see a spadefoot since they are pretty subterranean compared to other toads.
Water during the breeding season will bring them out though, and this pond puddle contained a couple of dozen at mid-morning.
There was a lot of amplexissy hugging going on.
IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!
What were they thinking?
Later that evening ... By the way, all of the remaining photos were taken at night with a flash ...
Where was I ... oh yes, later that evening ... the spadefoots were gone and the pond puddle supported lots of green tree frogs in and around the water. There was a lot of froggy telegraph chatter going on, but no sex.
Was I early?
Did the party start later in the evening?
Had I arrived late and missed it? No, no sign of eggs.
The sound was incredible and a few lucky friends got a phone picture message complete with audio recording as it happened.
I have a bit of noisy video via flashlight to share with you folks who visit PF, but lately Blooooger is not letting me upload video ... I keep getting an error message in gobbledygook code.
This one was singing like a crazy frog from the balcony seat in the willows.
On the walk back to PFHQ, I had to pass by the waterfolly we built.
It was being exclusively used by southern toads and they were trilling so loud that it almost hurt your ears.
There had to be about 2 dozen toads on the rocks and in the small pond. It was pretty crazy in there with lots of grabbing and wrestling going on.
The potted blue flag iris offered a resting place for toads needing to catch their breath before heading back into the fray.
The koi were getting an eyeful of frog frolicing and wisely chose to lay low for the evening.
It was quite the amphibiesque day ... and night. Interesting how each species chose it's place and time, although they all needed water to keep things going.
By the next day, the water in the pond puddle was gone, absorbed by the still thirsty, sandy clay at the pond bottom.