FROGS!

When I wear shorts, I go to the pond. I sit down and I meditate. The frogs start croaking. I start croaking too. Sometimes, while croaking, the frogs come up and quizzically look at me. They tilt their little froggy heads. After awhile, one or two of them will hop up on my legs. It feels really weird when they sit on your legs and croak. It’s like having vibrators on your legs.

Eventually one of the frogs will pee on me or poo. Then I violently stand up and I shout NOOOOOO! Frogs scatter everywhere. Pee or poo runs down my leg. Why did I stand up? I wonder, wiping my leg off. I sit back down, determined to again be one with the frogs. I croak again. I wonder if they peed on me on purpose, just to get my reaction. . . Well, it’s not like they have proper toilets. . . I don’t think they are even aware of it. No wonder they are so confounded by me! After all, nothing else they pee on jumps up and shouts at them. . .

It’s getting dark. When the sun sets, it gets louder. The crickets and loons join in. . . All the animals. except the snakes, join the symphony. Even the fish blow burbly bubbles that make the pond water rhythmically lap at the bank. It is like a jam session symphony. But quite mesmerizing.

I can’t see if there are any snakes around, it's too dark. But I’m croaking, and it tells the snakes where I am. . . Maybe I should stop croaking, and leave before a snake finds me. . . But I don’t want to step on any frogs. They are all croaking though, so I know where they are. . .

It’s a little muddy, but I think I can do this.

I walk deeper into the pond. Wrong way, darn it! It’s dark. But there were no frogs out there, because it’s the pond.

I need to walk UP the bank now, not down into the pond.

This is much harder at night. I scramble up the muddy bank on all fours. I feel like a frog doing that. So, I stand on the top of the bank, and I turn around to face the pond, which I can't see - because it is dark outside. I croak proudly. Then I run to the house, to avoid any snakes.