Frogs qualify as charming visitors, not nasty chipmunks

Garden visitors come in two types: charming or menacing.

This holds true for both humans and non-humans, although it’s much easier to pass such judgement on the mammalian, reptile and insect visitors.

Atop the charming category are the Eastern gray tree frogs that have become a regular sight in the past several years. At about an inch-and-a-half long, they are easy to miss until you are right on top of them. The other day I planted a sunflower that had been in a pot on the patio and found a cute tree frog sitting on a leaf as I finished firming in the soil around the plant. It must have been there the whole time, enjoying the trip as I carried the pot across the yard.

In addition to being very useful in the garden — they eat slugs, spiders and a wide range of insects including ticks — they can be rather comical. During the day they will rest in a flower or on a leaf, and a few years ago I had one hang out on the edge of a birdbath for a couple days. If it weren’t for its brillant green back, you could have mistaken it for an artistic flourish.

But at night they get active, and this means climbing up windows (excellent household cat entertainment value) with their suction cup toes.

A few nights ago, it also meant taking an impromptu tour of the inside of our house, where we found one hopping on the floor early the next morning. We can only assume he took a ride on the back of one of our furry Newfoundland dogs, which have a tendency to romp through greenery on their midnight trips outside.

We’ve also found frogs sitting atop the kitchen faucet and living in a houseplant more than a month after it came inside in fall.

Most gardeners are familiar with the visitors that fall into the menacing category, and a small and frustrating group of them seem to be mocking my attempts to encourage them to leave. The chipmunks not only chatter their displeasure in my direction when I dare to walk through the part of the garden they are currently occupying, they think nothing of digging up a pot of plants.

I’ve had mixed luck with a small live trap, which so far has garnered five chipmunks (including two at once, what may be my crowing achievement in wildlife-related pursuits) and six field mice.

  But it seems that the rest of them — and I suspect it’s a very large number — are out for vengence. Every morning there is messy evidence of a large chipmunk gathering on the steps out the back door.

No doubt they’re plotting their next move. I know the tree frogs would never do such a thing.