I SHOULD have guessed it was going to be a good day when I had to step over the frog sat proudly on my door step.

The recent sunny spell had obviously proved just enough to stimulate our amphibian species out of hibernation and into action. Where this rather lovely pale green and brown flecked frog had spent its winter months to be so boldly sunning itself on my front doorstep as I left for work, I can only but guess.

He or more probably she due to her size was obviously still feeling the effects of the early morning chill and was prepared to quite happily sit there and hope for the best as I carefully stepped over her and closed the front door, rather than expend what could easily be the last of her stored energy, powering cold muscles into a half-hearted attempt at a hop.

A quick walk around one of the heathland sites that morning showed that the same level of apathy existed in another cold blooded inhabitant of this reserve and hence I was able to spend a good five minutes sharing the warmth of this late winter sunshine in the company of a rather sleepy adder.

Adder are usually very shy and always make a move to rapidly escape from your view, but this animal, once again probably a female due to her bulk, poked her forked tongue out a couple of times to taste my scent but otherwise remained perfectly still allow me a chance to marvel at the beauty of this seldom seen animal.

I then ended up on a derelict yet flooded brown field site I had never visited before, just as the sun was setting. The water was not very deep and I could easily paddle through it in my walking boots.

Dotted throughout this area there were lots of tipped materials, ranging from sheets of plastic to abandoned oil drums. I was getting the feeling this was a sad and lifeless place, with a shadow of neglect and apathy cast across it. Then a real shadow moved on the sheet of blue polythene that was crumpled up in the water in front of me.

Perhaps there was some life? A closer look was followed by a wow' as I could easily make out the silhouettes of three or four smooth newts. Each of these newts were about the size of my little finger and seemed to be happily enjoying the extra bit of warmth the shallower water round the polythene was providing.

Then I had one of those moments where you have to tightly shut your eyes, question your sanity then see if what you thought you saw is actually really there. I hadn't seen it at first as it was so large compared with the diminutive smooth newts but there basking alongside them was a beautifully warty dark black/brown great crested newt with just a glimmer of its fiery orange underside to be seen.

So, surrounded by dereliction at dusk on a cool February evening, I had managed to get close up and personal with what has to be our district's rarest amphibian, the great crested newt, and just hours earlier I had spent time in the company of our rarest reptile - the adder.

I will just have to remember a frog on the doorstep is a sign of an interesting day ahead.

6:44pm Sunday 17th February 2008

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