Toad Patrol

On the first warm, rainy night of spring, the toads in our valley all wake up at once and walk to the pond to lay their eggs. The problem is that a two-lane road runs between their woods and their pond.

So every March, a handful of neighbors put on reflective vests and headlamps and carry them across. I joined this year after my neighbor knocked on my door at nine p.m. and said, "It's toad night. Bring a bucket."

We stood on the wet road in the drizzle, spotting small brown shapes hopping out of the ditch. You scoop them up gently, they pee on you (every time), and you carry them to the other side. A volunteer with a clipboard counted each one.

We moved four hundred and twelve toads, three salamanders and one very confused frog. I got home at one in the morning, soaked to the knees and grinning. Somewhere in that pond, there are a few million tadpoles who'll never know my name.