I had hoped for a quiet afternoon in the garden, tidying up the vegetable patch. It was not to be. The air was punctuated by lazy, but incessant staccato croaks from the locale's frog population. These amphibian mathematicians had decided to welcome Spring with an afternoon of multiplication. The croaks and the splashing about were rather disconcerting.
What passes for the garden pond is in reality not much more than a winterbourne puddle clogged up with various weeds. Hopefully it will retain sufficient water to allow some of the frogspawn to mature into little Freddy and Freda frogs.
Do children collect frogspawn any more ? Do they follow the metamorphosis from tadpole to frog? I suspect not. I suppose playing computer games is more interesting!