72 Microseasons of the Pacific Northwest

The Pacific tree frog (Pseudacris regilla), also called the Pacific chorus frog, produces one of the most recognizable sounds in the Pacific Northwest — the stereotypical two-note "rib-it" or "krek-ek" that has been dubbed into countless films set anywhere in North America. Despite that celebrity, the sound is entirely authentic to the Pacific Northwest, where this small frog (typically 1–2 inches) is found from sea level to subalpine elevations across all six regions. By mid-May, breeding choruses are at their loudest and most widespread. Males congregate in shallow ponds, marshes, drainage ditches, flooded fields, and even garden ponds to call, each one floating partially submerged with his vocal sac inflated to a bubble larger than his head. On warm nights, dozens to hundreds of males chorus together, the sound carrying hundreds of yards. The cacophony can be overwhelming near productive wetlands — Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge, the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge in the lower Columbia, the sloughs of the Snohomish River delta, or any undrained lowland farm ditch in the Willamette Valley. Female frogs enter the water to choose mates, and egg masses — small gelatinous clusters attached to submerged vegetation — are visible by mid-May if you wade or look carefully from a low bank. Though tiny and cryptic — they come in green, brown, tan, and gray, always with a dark stripe through the eye — the frogs are not especially shy and can sometimes be spotted on vegetation near the water's edge with a flashlight after dark. Listen for the chorus any time from dusk onward through May and into June. Even suburban gardens with small ornamental ponds, especially west of the Cascades, often host calling males. The chorus is one of the most reliable markers that spring has fully arrived in the Pacific Northwest lowlands.