This frog: cute or invasive?

I found this fellow hanging out on our kitchen windowsill the other night, probably attracted to the floodlight in our back yard.

It was pretty small (wish I'd taken a photo with something in the shot for size comparison), and quite calm. I thought his hazel eyes were beautiful, almost bronze.

I called Kyle out for a look and he thought it might be a Cuban treefrog - which would be bad. They're invasive - they eat our native Florida treefrogs and compete for resources with them. Florida treefrogs are much smaller and have significantly smaller toe pads. You can read more at the UF/IFAS Gulf Coast Research & Education Center's Invasive Cuban treefrog web page.

Comparing this photo to one of a Cuban treefrog I found on the UF/IFAS web site, I'm afraid Kyle was right:

The problem with Cuban treefrogs is that their coloring can vary pretty widely, from really dark brown, to striped or splotchy. But the toe pads look pretty similar.

I was pretty bummed. You're supposed to humanely dispose of them - in fact, it's illegal to release them again. The best way to euthanize the Cuban treefrogs is to put a generous dose of benzocaine (20%) on either their backs or stomachs, which will render them unconscious. You then put them in a plastic baggie and place it in the freezer, where the froggy "goes to sleep." Be sure to wear gloves while doing this, as the frog can give off a slime that irritates the skin.

Not being sure at the time that it was a Cuban treefrog, I didn't do this. But I guess I'll have to if I see it again. (I kinda hope I don't see it again.)

Rainbow River Canoe Day

This past weekend, Kyle and some friends of ours went canoeing down the Rainbow River.


We rented aluminum canoes at K.P. Hole county park and paddled upstream, towards the head springs (Rainbow Springs, where there's a much bigger state park apparently). We didn't make it all the way to the head springs, mainly because you have to return the canoes by 4 p.m.

Having grown up around the Atlantic Ocean and St. Johns River, I am still amazed and thrilled at how clear the spring-fed waters of Florida are. You could see all the way to the bottom, which in some places was very shallow and covered with aquatic grass (Strap-leaf sagittaria), but in others went so deep that there were divers and snorkelers - this is all limestone and sand, making the water appear a gorgeous turquoise. Throughout the sandy bottom you'd see little boils bubbling - water from the springs pushing up through the limestone.

My only other clear-water river experience has been in the Santa Fe, near Ginnie Springs. Sadly, the first thing I noticed at the Rainbow river was how clean it was. I never saw a can or bottle at the bottom of the river (although we did find one beer can floating in some marshgrass).

This is in stark contrast to the Santa Fe around Ginnie, where we never return from a "float" with less than five or six rusty cans and slimy bottles that Kyle picked up along the way. Because Ginnie Springs is privately owned, they can allow people to bring alcohol, and the majority of these park-goers are young and stupid, getting wasted and tossing their trash wherever they are, including the river.

The county and state parks prohibit alcohol, in fact, K.P. Hole prohibited any food or drink in disposable containers. Seems you've got to make rules just to keep the water clean, and that's heartbreaking.

The Rainbow river was so beautiful, and due to the time of year, it wasn't very busy. It was warm enough for Kyle and his friends Adam and Cori to snorkel (with wetsuit-like tops), but not this Florida girl. I don't get wet until June - at the earliest. I was still wearing a sweatshirt, after all.

Cori, who is the best fisherman I've ever met, caught a nice bass - we released him after the photo.

We saw a ton of birds, including a king fisher, bald eagles, cormorants, cranes and anahingas (snake birds, called so for their long, slinky necks - they're fantastic swimmers and fishermen).

The day was wonderful, and reminded me just how lucky am I to live in such a beautiful state.

Sandhill Cranes

Before coming back from the holiday break, Kyle and I went to Payne's Prairie to see the sandhill cranes.

We saw almost as many alligators as cranes; okay, not really, but we saw a lot of gators. I'll apologize for the bad photography up front. None of this was close to us, and my zoom is only so-so. So I've altered many of the photos, upping the contrast on the fuzzy ones.




Kyle decided he needed a photo of a real gator with his damn Gator baby doll, which seems to accompany him whenever he brings his camera. Some day he'll have enough to publish a freaking book of Gator baby doll photos. You might be able to make out the doll propped in a branch, but you probably can't see the alligator much further back.

We did see cranes. Thousands of them, actually. They come down to winter, and this year was a bumper crop - estimates were as high as 8,000. Usually there are around 2,000. The temperature and water depth were apparently perfect this year, bringing in the crowds. (Bad-photo warning!)

Along with the gray sandhills were a few whooping cranes, which are endangered. When conservationists started a breeding program, they trained them to migrate with ultralight aircraft. When they were on their own, a few decided that it was safer in numbers and joined the sandhills on their migration path.

I think the high point of the day was when a huge number of them simultaneously decided it was time to move - right then. It was thrilling to see so many moving in tandem. Photos can't do it justice. They make the most amazing sound, a loud, cooing, throbbing noise.

There were a lot of people out to see the cranes, including some professional photographers. One of them pointed out this group of baby alligators, perched on their mother's snout. We would have never spotted them ourselves, but this guy had the biggest lens I've ever seen. I'm sure his photo came out better:

Less cute, and a hell of a lot scarier, was this guy. I don't know how I spotted him, but he was very, very close to us, just lurking in the water.

The prairie is a mix of marshy land and dry, grassy land. I'm curious to see what this looks like in the summer.

It turned out to be a beautiful day.