As I lift the discarded pond liner, she shifts, trying to get back into the shadows. Sadly, if the pond is to be finished, she must move. I lift her, cradling her in my palms. Her mottled, warty skin is surprisingly soft, and she has a grumpy expression. She shuffles a little, causing streaks of copper in her bewitching eyes to glimmer in the late winter sunshine.
At this time of year, toads usually seek solace in dead wood, log piles or compost – dark, cool places. This muddy liner has probably been just right. Although I’ve disturbed her, it’s shortly time for her to emerge anyway. Soon, adult toads will face an arduous journey as they migrate to ponds to breed. Unlike frogs, toads don’t jump much, even though they…
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The Simple Things (Digital) - 1 Issue, March 2022