Listen: This is the call of the Tapir Valley tree frog, or Tlalocohyla celeste. Barely the size of a thumbnail, it was this frog’s call that first drew the attention of researchers.

Back in 2020, Valeria Aspinall knew she was part of something remarkable. She was interning at the Costa Rican Tapir Valley Nature Preserve, working with founder and herpetologist Donald Varela-Soto, who two years previous had identified a new species of frog living in the preserve. Two years later, Aspinall was there when they made the first positive ID of a female of the species.

In an article published by the Odum School of Ecology, where she is now earning her master’s degree, Aspinall shared, “I was lucky enough to be there that night. It was my first experience with the amphibian world and how I fell in love with frogs.”

It was the frog’s distinct call, not its appearance, that first drew attention. Barely the size of a thumbnail, the frog had gone unnoticed. Very little was known about its diet, mating habits, or population size.

Aspinall is trying to fill in those gaps. Using bioacoustic tools like sound recorders to track when and why the frog calls, she hopes to learn more about the amphibian’s reproduction and habitat needs.

“Our main goal is to ensure survival of the species in the long term,” Aspinall said. “From my scientific background, I want to provide information to inform conservation strategies or management actions, such as creating a monitoring program for the frog.”

With grants she’s secured, including support through the prestigious Spencer Fellowship, Aspinall has installed a climate station and water-level loggers to study how changing environmental conditions impact the frog’s activity. Her approach is non-invasive, allowing researchers to gather vital data without disturbing the animals or the shrinking wetland they call home.

This summer, Aspinall returns to Costa Rica to continue her fieldwork, combining conservation science with the simple but powerful idea that listening can lead to protection.

For a frog that may only live in one small wetland, a call was what led to its discovery—and may ultimately be what helps save it.