Southern leopard frogs hunt in summer wetlands
June 26, 2026
At the edge of the wetland margins near Lorton, the water is warm and the vegetation is dense. Little bluestem and redosier dogwood press in close to the shoreline. The longest days of the year are here, and the southern leopard frog is making full use of them.The southern leopard frog is a medium-sized frog, brown or green with irregular dark spots across its back and a pale stripe running along each side. It is a threatened species in this region, and the wetlands around Lorton represent some of its remaining habitat in northern Virginia. Right now, in peak summer, these frogs are most active and most visible. They sit at the water's edge or just inside it, facing outward, watching. Their eyes are set high on their heads, giving them a wide field of view above the waterline. When something moves within striking range, the frog lunges forward, opens its mouth, and the tongue does the work in a fraction of a second. The prey is pulled back before most observers register that anything happened.What the frog is eating depends on what is available at the water's edge right now, and in summer that means a great deal. Aquatic insects emerge from the water in waves throughout the warm months. Dragonflies like the Needham's skimmer are hunting above the same water where their larvae developed. Midges, water striders, and various beetles move along the surface or hover just above it. The southern leopard frog is not selective. It takes what presents itself at the right size and distance. Beetles, flies, small moths, the occasional earthworm that wanders too close to the margin. Larger individuals will take small crayfish or even smaller frogs. The frog's hunting is tied entirely to its immediate surroundings, and those surroundings in summer are dense with invertebrate activity.The frog is also prey. Great blue herons stand motionless in the shallows at Lake Accotink Park, and when a leopard frog moves, the heron strikes downward with its bill. Green herons use a slightly different approach, crouching low on overhanging branches and watching the water directly below. Common snapping turtles wait on the bottom in shallow areas. The leopard frog's spotted pattern helps it disappear against the dappled mix of mud, leaf litter, and water surface, but it is still taken regularly by these predators. Its primary defense is to jump, and it jumps at an angle, landing in the water and diving immediately. If you are near the water's edge and something small launches sideways from the bank in front of you, this is most likely what you are seeing.The green treefrog, also threatened and present in these wetlands, occupies slightly different habitat. It climbs into vegetation above the water rather than sitting at the margin, and it is more nocturnal. Both species are sensitive to water quality and to the loss of wetland edge habitat, which is why their status in this region is being tracked. The water here measures near neutral pH and runs warm through the summer months, conditions that support the invertebrate communities these frogs depend on. But wetland edges are also exactly where invasive plants establish most readily. Persian silk tree, an invasive species, grows in disturbed areas near water throughout this region. Where it shades out native shoreline vegetation, the structure that leopard frogs use for cover and hunting disappears.The spotted lanternfly, an invasive insect now widespread in this area, does not directly affect leopard frogs, but its presence reflects the degree to which the surrounding landscape has changed. It feeds on a wide range of plants, including native species at the wetland margin, and its population here is substantial.If you are near still or slow-moving water right now, watch the bank for a few minutes without moving. The southern leopard frog often sits in plain view, but it holds very still, and the eye tends to pass over it. Look for the pale lateral stripe and the spotted back just at the waterline. The water is warm enough now that you may see ripples where one has just jumped in.
Green treefrogs call as summer wetlands warm
June 11, 2026
The wetlands near Lorton hold the heat of long summer days well into evening. Water temperatures climb through the afternoon, and as dusk settles, the first calls begin. A single note, then another, building into the steady chorus that will carry through the night. Green treefrogs have emerged into their peak breeding season, and their voices now define these warm wetland edges.The males call from low vegetation along the water's edge, their bright green bodies nearly invisible against the leaves of spicebush and redbud that overhang the shallows. Each call is a sharp, nasal honk that carries clearly across the water. They position themselves just above the waterline, gripping stems with their adhesive toe pads, throats swelling and deflating with each vocalization. The calls come in bursts, each male timing his contribution to the collective sound that draws females from the surrounding forest.This chorus serves multiple purposes beyond simple attraction. The overlapping calls create an acoustic blanket that helps mask individual frogs from predators. Great crested flycatchers and red-eyed vireos hunt these wetland edges, but the coordinated calling makes it difficult to pinpoint any single frog. The males also space themselves acoustically, each finding a frequency and rhythm that cuts through the mix without directly competing with his nearest neighbors. As water temperatures rise through the evening, the calling intensifies. Warmer water means faster development for the eggs and tadpoles that will soon follow, making these peak summer nights crucial for reproductive success.The females approach silently, moving through the shallow water to assess potential mates. They choose based on call quality and the male's position, often selecting sites with the right depth and vegetation density for egg laying. Once paired, the female deposits her eggs in small clusters attached to submerged vegetation, while the male fertilizes them externally. The eggs develop quickly in the warm water, hatching within days into tadpoles that will feed on algae and organic matter in these productive summer wetlands. American bullfrogs and green frogs share these waters, their deeper calls providing a bass line beneath the treefrogs' higher-pitched chorus.Listen now for that steady pulse of sound that rises with the evening air. The calls blend into a rhythm that matches the season itself, urgent but unhurried, as constant as the warm water that holds tomorrow's generation. If you are near water tonight, that chorus is the sound of summer wetlands at their most alive, each voice a small green life calling toward the future in the gathering dark.
Milkweed flowers open as monarchs arrive
May 24, 2026
Step outside into the warming air of Lake Accotink Park, where the late spring light filters through fully leafed trees. The season has settled into its fullest green, and in the meadow edges and sunny clearings, something precise is unfolding. Common milkweed stands waist-high now, its broad oval leaves catching the light, while the shorter butterfly milkweed spreads in patches nearby, its narrow leaves arranged in neat spirals up the stem.Both plants are preparing to flower, their tight clusters of buds swelling at the stem tips. The common milkweed will open first into drooping spheres of small pink flowers, each one intricate as a tiny crown. The butterfly milkweed follows with flat-topped clusters of brilliant orange blooms that seem to concentrate sunlight. This timing matters. Somewhere to the south, monarch butterflies are moving north, riding thermals and following the green wave of spring. They navigate by the sun and by magnetic fields we cannot sense, but what draws them forward is simpler: the promise of milkweed.The relationship between monarchs and milkweed runs deeper than nectar and pollen. Adult monarchs will feed from many flowers, but they can only reproduce on milkweed. The female butterfly tests each plant with her feet, tasting for the specific alkaloids that make milkweed toxic to most animals. When she finds the right chemistry, she curves her abdomen beneath a leaf and deposits a single white egg, no larger than a pinhead. The caterpillar that hatches will feed exclusively on this plant, incorporating its poisons into its own body. What makes the milkweed inedible to deer and rabbits makes the monarch butterfly toxic to birds.The milkweed, in turn, depends on the monarchs and other insects for pollination. Each small flower in the cluster produces pollen in waxy packets that stick to a visiting insect's legs or body. When the insect moves to the next flower, these packets transfer, completing the exchange. The plant cannot self-pollinate effectively. It needs the movement of wings and legs, the accident of bodies brushing against stamens in the right sequence. By late summer, successful flowers will split open into pointed pods, releasing seeds that drift on white silk parachutes. Some will land in places where next spring's monarchs can find them.Close your eyes and listen to the sounds building around you. Somewhere in this lengthening warmth, the first monarchs may already be arriving, their orange and black wings unmistakable against the green. The milkweed buds are swelling toward bloom, and the timing holds. In a few days or weeks, flower and butterfly will meet again, continuing an exchange that bridges seasons and distances we can barely imagine. The air carries the green scent of leaves in full growth, and underneath it, the faint sweetness of flowers preparing to open.
