This morning at 5.30, the river was three feet above normal.  When we emerge, the first thing, almost sub-consciously, is to listen to the river. One can almost guess the level.  Yesterday it was about eighteen inches, and I took the dogs along the bank.  A lovely drying strong wind made it a brisk experience, and the dogs love to sniff the “new” air.

Looking down I noticed toad spawn, not for the first time, on the bank and not in the river.  “What’s wrong with them?” I ask myself, are they too young to not deposit it in the river?  This deposit was different, a strange white curly deposit was also there.

Then, the realisation.  Every year the toad population which lives in a pond on the other side of the river, swim across to mate, and leave the spawn in the rock pools.  The otters, …  I suspect you can join the dots.  The toad is a delicacy, but the skin is repulsive to them, so how to access it?   The otter unzips them across the tummy and eviscerates them – this is the residue.  Ordinarily the skins are in the pools, but with the flood they have been washed away.  Unzip a banana sounds preferable to me!

Harry

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Harry

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