This evening I attended a short workshop for volunteers at Huntley Meadows Park on the local frogs and toads. Now I can separate a Pickerel Frog (Rana palustris) from a Southern Leopard Frog (R. shenocephala), at least if I'm looking at slides. And I learned again that the Pickerel Frog's call sounds like someone running a thumb down the teeth of a pocket comb.

There's a really funny monologue by Ken Jenkins called Chug, about a guy who puts all of his money into frog farming.

Anyway, it began to snow during the workshop. When we came out, there was about half an inch of fine, crystalline snow on the blacktop path to the vistors' center, just enough to make a crunch under your boots. I rarely visit the park after hours, and rarely get to see it in snow. On the drive home, my tires began to slip on Sunrise Valley Drive, so I punched the 4x4 button (several times, actually) and rode the last mile home in four-wheel drive convenience.

posted: 10:05:45 PM