If you ask me what my favourite song is, I'll tell you it is frog song. Every year I try to find the time and the place (& places are getting harder to come by) to listen to their alien symphonies.
I found this little frog pond last fall and marked it in memory for a return visit in spring.
On April 21, the temperatures were very warm--I would call them hot. The sun bore down from a flat blue sky, there was no shade from the leafless trees and the air was still. When I found what was left of a snow bank, I grabbed handfuls of the stuff to cool myself down. My dog just plunged right in and rolled. Now, that was cute, but she had the same idea when we got to the frog pond and she wallowed like a pig in the black muck. Our noisy invasion put a quick end to the concert, but with time and patience the frogs started up again, first one, then another, like flute and piccollo beginning the warm-up, prior to the main performance. Eventually, after forbidding the dog to re-enter the pond, the frogs went back to the business of romance and I was treated to a rich and varied concert. There were spring peepers, toads trilling, and varieties I can't yet put a name to, including a few noises I swear I've never heard before.
Such moments are fleeting gifts of time to be taken whenever the opportunity arises.
Sighting: York Regional Forest, North Tract, April 21, 2008
Medium: Pencil Crayon on Bristol
Size: 11" x 14"