The Miracle Of Rebirth At Barleycorn
A curious frog swam near to where I was sitting, eyeing me with suspicion, no doubt wondering what I was up to, and whether I was friend or foe...probably remembering that pesky heron from the previous day who had helped himself to a few of his brothers and sisters.
On closer inspection I could see, amongst some waterweed, a blob of recent spawn, where the individual eggs were clearly visible.
Further over there were older tadpoles, still within their jelly, but with chubby bodies and wiggly tails.
Next to them was a section of greenish-coloured spawn, within which were individual tadpoles in little cells shaped like space bubbles ; each tadpole wriggling about inside its capsule.
With the sun playing a game of hide and seek with the clouds, the ever-changing reflections gave the impression that some of the spawn was suspended in thick, impenetrable white jelly.
The largest area, however, was a mass of seething, wriggling tadpoles, all closely huddled together for safety and warmth.
Zooming in with my camera, I could see within this mass the eldest of all the tadpoles, all squeezed together like sardines, and all breathing through their new gills. I couldn't resist taking a little video of them doing the Hokey Cokey, which you can view just after the little poem.
The Barleycorn BogWe’re the newborn baby froglings
In the Barleycorn bog
With our beady eyes a-goggling
Through the underwater fog
We’re getting very strong
‘Cos our legs are growing long
A-swimming and a-gobbling
To the rhythm of the song
With our wiggly tails a-joggling
And our eager heads agog
We’re happy in the sunshine
‘Cos we’ll soon be handsome frogs.
