Frog songs and other mysteries

The small green buds on the lilac bushes in the side yard are proof that spring has finally sprung. The birds, frogs, and furry critters scampering all over the place are further proof despite the fact that it is snowing outside right now. It’s fine. It won’t stick. Isn’t that what we all say when it snows in late April?

The wind on Easter Sunday brought down the top of a small maple tree near the fire circle that had broken part of the way up last fall during a thunderstorm. I was glad to see it down when we came home from St. Paul. If you wait long enough, when it comes to trees, sometimes Mother Nature does at least half your work for you.

The spring peepers were having a big old party in the pond up the road when I walked the dog yesterday. Frogs, it seems, are easily embarrassed. They became completely silent as we approached. I imagined hundreds of nervous frogs with furrowed brows and solemn eyes watching. How did they know we were coming? Is there a sentry frog that lets the others know when to shut up? Which senses do frogs depend on most in the face of perceived danger? I want to know.

In other news, the woodpeckers and nut hatches are finishing up the last of the suet in the feeder. In a failed attempt to keep the dog busy, I put one of those squirrel spinners outside her fence. Unfortunately, for the dog, the squirrels have no interest in hanging onto corn cobs and flying wildly around in a circle when they are supposed to be building nests and starting squirrel families. They have better things to do in April, corn or not.

Time passes and the seasons goes ’round and ’round even if the squirrels won’t. The frogs sing or don’t, depending upon their need for privacy. Broken trees fall while others bud and grow tall. Our extended family will celebrate three different graduations this spring. One from college and two from high school. Three very different smart, funny, good-looking cousins perched on the edges of three different nests. They are ready to fly. We are (mostly) ready to watch them soar. There’s another sweet baby great-niece to meet and a housewarming for a nephew and his fiancee, too.  Our calendars and hearts are full.

Beginnings and endings. Endings and beginnings. In ponds. In the woods. In life.

And in families, too.



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