American toads do not make too much of an effort to be seen. The need to communicate with other toads, however, makes their presence known. This image of a toad silhouette was drawn in pen.
The woods are filled with a loud, eerie trill, an otherworldly song that originates from a hidden source. In addition to singing, this mysterious source is also listening and watching. At the sound of a snapping branch or the glimpse of a sudden shadow, the singing stops. The prospect of being sought out and, therefore, in possible danger, is enough reason for an intermission.
In the low spots on the woodland floor are pools of water collected after a string of rainy days. The pools hold sticks, fallen leaves, and growing greenery. Clumps of mud and a few rocks line the edges. Beautifully camouflaged within one of these pools is an American toad. The brown-gray amphibian with bumpy skin sits in the water and perfectly still save for the occasional blinking of its eyes and the subtle expansion and contraction of its sides with every inhale and exhale.
When the coast is deemed clear, the toad sits up, inflates its throat into a large bubble, and starts to sing. Quick ripples spread throughout the water from the toad as it sings as do invisible sound waves in the air. The eerie trill fills the woods once again.