Just recently we've been serenaded in the mornings by a variety of song birds who have taken it upon themselves to tell us that spring is on its way and that they've got babies on their mind. While we are yet to feel the true resonance of their dawn chorus, our mornings are slowly gearing up to when their fanfare will literally drown out our bedroom radio. 

But while our feathered friends might begin the day with their lyrical chorus lines, it will soon end with the cacophonous croaking of frogs and toads: the loud cacophonous croaking of frogs and toads. To be honest, it starts nicely enough with three or four of these cute looking amphibians mooching around, giving the odd little croak here and there. Silly as we are, we see them rather like Toad of Toad Hall in A.A. Milne's lovely book "Wind in the Willows" as we discover them in buckets, pots and other bits of paraphernalia we've left around the garden. In the evenings their shy, tentative calls accompany us as we go around the house shutting all our shutters as we lock up for the night. It's all very quaint and dignified but it doesn't last. Sadly.

As spring arrives in full force so do they: knabs and colonies of them (to use the collective nouns). Once they've drawn up their defensive lines of position, they crank up the volume of their croaking and continue their momentum day and night. Our neighbourhood becomes awash with their sound.  Visitors staying with us have been kept awake all night because of them, arriving bleary eyed at the breakfast table in the morning as Nigel and I meekly ask "Did you sleep well?".  My mother, normally a heavy sleeper, has been known to take sleeping pills and plug her ears with cotton wool when she's here.

Toad of Toad Hall and his other chums will stay with us well into June, slowly hopping back from whence they came before the heat of summer is truly upon us. A few will remain behind to keep us company, raising their happy voices whenever it rains or simply giving the odd croak from time to time just to let us know they're around.

We truly enjoy having family and friends stay with us, but have noticed over the years their dwindling interest in coming down in spring. We have suggested that they come and stay with us during the summer months when the weather is absolutely gorgeous albeit the garden a little noisy: I did mention the cicadas, didn't I? Ahhhh.