Litoria Gracilenta

This morning I saw a Graceful Treefrog (Litoria gracilenta) in the rainforest garden, the sound brought back memories. I used to look forward to the calls of these frogs during summer when  the air grew humid and the sound of distant thunder rolled across the stillness. The rising wail of a Graceful Tree Frog would be heard coming from high up in the dark-green canopy of the old mango tree that took up most of my small backyard and which had the swing attached that my one-year old son was so fond of. I would imagine the frogs lying flat against the swinging mango leaves for the cold winter months, almost sealed to the leaf. Their legs tucked in to reduce moisture loss, probably dreaming frog dreams of the coming rains.
If the rain persisted, after several days a huge chorus of wailing frogs would drift up from a creek a hundred metres down the road. It was the largest chorus I’d heard of frogs in my suburb, and after the rain ceased the calls would go all night, an eerie but somehow calming background soundtrack to a summer night. I’d sneak down there at night with a torch and a camera, to the vacant block between houses, and see stacks of these stunning emerald amphibians lining the edges of the creek calling. They’d probably been doing this there for many decades or probably centuries.
Were lucky enough to have forty-three recorded species of frogs although two are now extinct. Many species are common and widespread, but some are disappearing. As bushland and temporary wetlands vanish, some species are becoming harder to see.