April 18, 2013. Trip to Krasnokutsk District

First and foremost, we naturally wanted to witness the spawning of the pond frog, Pelophylax lessonae. We didn’t catch it in the act. But the trip turned out to be truly fascinating... We started by stopping at Sharovsky Park, which is now a protected area. For the 19th century, Sharovsky Palace was certainly not an entirely ordinary sight, but it was, after all, located in a thriving area. Sugar manufacturers built palaces and parks here. Decline began during the Soviet era and only intensified during the years of independence. For a long time, there was a tuberculosis sanatorium here; now, it seems, they are trying to turn it into a tourist attraction. The picture, alas, is a sad one. Everything is falling apart. The inventory numbers, painted in oil on all the structures, do little to prevent the decay. This is our homeland... In the years leading up to the revolution, the Sharovsky estate was owned by Leopold König. Interestingly, he was the founder of the Herpetological Society in Germany. The herpetological motifs in the decor of this half-ruined gazebo are no coincidence... A snapshot in the style of “ordinary folks on an outing” A dried-up bouquet of snowdrops on the bridge... Apparently, lovers of beauty take walks here The bridge itself is half-ruined Here’s the difference between man-made structures and natural ones. The park looks fresh and pleasant An outing with the girls, who were visiting this place for the first time Texture So how old was it? There are two ponds in the park. The upper one is larger. In it—mass spawning of gray toads; you can hear the “thumping” of garlic toads. We couldn’t catch them. Business as usual... Green frogs have emerged; they’re already skittish but haven’t spawned yet. The pond has a RE-system, and the hybrids look very much like Lesser Spadefoots. Grass snakes are hunting the frogs... ...and we hunted for grass snakes a bit—our colleagues asked us to collect a small sample. Spawning! The females that have finished spawning leave the water. Right there, nearby, are females of Pelophylax ridibundus and, less frequently, Pelophylax esculentus that have emerged from hibernation. By the way, to catch this female, I took off my clothes and waded into the water. I caught her. Right there—males of the common toad waiting for females. Fully ready... As a result, some female frogs end up in amplexus with the toads. For them, this can end badly. In some places, the water is practically boiling. It’s not just toads... ...but also perch. Right there, the perch roe is spread out. New species of primroses have appeared. The ants have woken up. There are many birds in the park. And this is already the Krasnokutsk Arboretum. At first we were upset: had the row of fir trees in front of the entrance really disappeared? Then we realized everything was fine: these are larch trees. Yew. In the ponds—both toads (apparently leaving after spawning) and frogs. Do you see the toad and the frog? I noticed some strange object in the water... ...which turned out to be a dead turtle. The grave of the park’s founder, Ivan Nazarovich Karazin. He is the brother of Vasily Nazarovich, the founder of our university. On our last visit, his grave was adorned with a metal bas-relief, traces of which are still visible on the stone. The improvements are evident. And this is the “Singing Terraces” near Krasnokutsk. Apparently, Shalyapin himself performed at this spot, near the terraces built to accumulate sound: the place has amazing acoustics. It’s unusual that the terraces are visible through the leafless branches of the trees. Alas, this place is also deserted. The acoustics here are, of course, very strange. The echo is a bit indistinct, but very powerful. At first, I tried to record a simulated conversation between the girls in stereo (they were simply following the request to say whatever they wanted), and then, after all, I managed to persuade Olya to sing a little. I’m posting both videos; they’re worth paying attention to (especially if you listen to the recording with proper stereo playback). My self-portrait with a mermaid in the background. As we approached the pond frogs’ spawning grounds, we got stuck in terrible mud. It’s a wonder we didn’t get stuck. Mud was flying everywhere and even got into the car window; while closing the window, I broke the window regulator handle. The car, having broken free from the muddy trap, looks triumphant. An interesting contrast between the marshy terrain with beaver channels and the joyful pose of the beauty in the foreground. Last year, everything here was overgrown with a plant that I always thought belonged to the genus Luffa (Luffa)—the very same genus to which the prickly luffa (Luffa acutangula) belongs, from whose ripe fruits (as well as those of closely related species) loofahs are made. Still, it seems to me that in some reference book I looked at about 25 years ago, this plant of American origin was classified specifically in the genus Luffa. But now I’ve been corrected (thank you!): it turns out to be Echinocystis lobata. At least, both genera belong to the Cucurbitaceae family; perhaps Echinocystis was once included in the Luffa genus. In any case, it is a fairly aggressive invasive species A close-up of a dried Echinocystis fruit. Inside, it has the same structure of dried vascular bundles forming a three-dimensional mesh, just like in Luffa fruits. These channels are largely the result of beaver activity. If I understand correctly, this is the territory of Slobozhansky National Park. And this channel is maintained primarily by the flow of water. The beavers have particularly ruthlessly ravaged this tree. That’s all. The day was over, the camera battery was dead, and our trip was coming to an end...