Where do toads come from?
I pondered that question during Ike’s massive deluge as I peered out my basement egress window into the window well. (The water was draining away nicely—thank you.) Sitting there as happy as could be were two toads. Being different size and color, I assume that they were not related, yet they both turned up together.
What was interesting was that they weren’t there prior to the rain and they weren’t there afterward. Even more perplexing is that the window well is about four feet deep with near vertical sides, so although they could have jumped in, they certainly couldn’t have jumped out. The bottom of the window well is filled with gravel on top of a wire mesh. Moles occasionally bypass the mesh, so I supposed the toads could have as well, but the toads are a lot fatter, making their task all that much more challenging—besides, I don’t envision them as being tunneling animals.
I frequently see toads around my house in the moist dirt as I weed flowerbeds—so I know they are around—but when it rains they become much more apparent.
Then there are frogs. The closest water—their normal habitat, I think—is a small stream about a half mile away. Yet when it rains, they, too, show up at my house. Right after, they disappear.
Although I thought I was knowledgeable about these two amphibians, it seems that I am not. There is a lack of consensus about this pressing subject on the Internet, with one site even claiming that all toads are actually frogs.
So my simple query about the origin of toads has opened up a Pandora’s Box of related questions, leaving me with: How did the toads get out of my window well?
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