Dusk passes, it is now into the darkness of night. The sounds, the ones that I wait for every year, those night sounds, the beautiful night sounds, every year in March. The tree frogs have begun their night calls to each other, it began a few days ago, with some brave ones that began their songs, each night the sounds are more in number. Soon, the voices will be so loud they can be heard even through a door that is only partially opened. Oh those beautiful green tree frogs. Soon, as the numbers increase and I know they will be everywhere, the kids and I will be heading out for the frog hunt. This is a yearly ritual that takes us deep into the realms of nighttime, we take our flashlights, walk as quietly as we can and search out the murky little ponds that are on our property. There is a new pond that has arisen, I was looking at it the other day, it appears to be reasonably deep, deep enough surely for the frogs to raise their babies in.
It is a low spot on our property that was created when an enormous pile of tree debris was piled up, after the tree falling and land clearing that was done on the back 3 acres of our five-acre property. This low spot has gathered water for a couple of years now, and has stagnated beautifully, a haven for the wonderful little creatures that love that green and slimy muck.
Our adventure will begin this weekend, when the kids have more time to go out with me and do the hunt. We catch the little frogs, keep them for awhile overnight and then release them the next day, back to their homes, no harm has been done, and little people are thrilled to death about the adventure of the forthcoming night. Have a beautiful and wonderfully greatest of days, Cindi