The Aventure of the Missing Frogspawn


Dear Wood Warbler,

Spring is definitely here. Delightful spring things I have seen include:

-fat, dozy bumblebees

-cherry trees and magnolias everywhere, their confetti spraying all over the streets

-two lovely butterflies, a little white one, and a dusky reddish brown one, flitting about on the New River Walk. (Sadly I’m not R.L.E.Ford and couldn’t identify them more accurately than that).

A pair of delicate long tailed tits, hopping about, upside down on a cherry tree. (Not really that spring specific, just delightful).

Best of all, I’ve seen clouds and clouds of frogspawn, in the New River. There were so many clumps of it, if every egg was destined to turn into a frog, London would be facing an Old Testament Plague type situation.

At first, the frogspawn was guarded zealously by about fifty frogs. (I didn’t see this myself, but was told it by extremely reliable sources). Then all the frogs left (maybe they weren’t that bothered about their offspring after all). Then…

It disappeared.

All of it. Yards of it.


It’s possible that all the tadpoles have hatched. But if they have, where are they? The water is crystal clear. Unless they’re playing an extremely committed game of hide and seek, I’m a little concerned for them. Apparently tadpoles get eaten by all sorts of creatures.  Blackbirds, magpies, cats, even the innocent looking hedgehog quite likes the occasional mouthful. They’re the quick and easy snack food of the wildlife world. They’re tiny, canal-based Pringles.

Personally I have my suspicions about the extremely gloomy carp who I often see lurking in the vicinity. (See above). But could he have consumed that many frogspawn dinners?

I am baffled. But hopeful.

I’m going to keep watching out for them.


London Pigeon.





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