Did I not imply last post that we strive to be a drama-free household? Well, I’m afraid the hypothetical situation described there, the one to be avoided, is exactly what played out in our living room yesterday.
I could see in the Tiny Tank that yet another froglet was completely formed and ready to move outside into the bug world. In fact, I could see two. I noticed both of them in the late evening, and since it was already dark. I decided they could wait till morning so that we wouldn’t have to mess around with flashlights. They each had enough of a tail left to nourish them through the night.
When I checked in the morning, though, I could only see one. There it was, waiting patiently on the little floating plank, looking wistfully out the window at the great outdoors, wondering how to get out there. Linda stood by with an extra net in case of a surprise leap, while I opened the lid and easily coaxed the creature into my smaller net.
Just then: BOING! Another froglet jumped out of the water, from the right to the left, just as I was scooping up this one. Into the transport box, on with the lid! A thorough search around the area assured us that the wayward froglet must’ve landed back into the water, at the left end. Not seeing it there right away, we concluded it must be hiding in the hornwort. We’d get back to that little one after we freed this cutie.
Once outside, I delayed and dawdled because… because I’m me, and I don’t do anything swiftly. And because as usual I became entranced with watching the scene play out. Two of the froglets freed so far (not just the one, like the previous day) showed up to greet this one.
Linda went back inside to get on with her day. But I couldn’t tear myself away from watching them. They approached each other timidly, getting closer but not closer than six or seven inches — as if to say, “Yep, this is frogland. It’s us, your mates from the indoor tank. We’re here, you’re in the right place. But let’s not be too chummy just yet.”
In the distance the motors of the Friday landscaping services began humming. I thought I heard someone faintly call my name… and then again….but no. Who would be calling me? One of the neighbor kids? One of the neighbors? But how would they even know I was back here in the garden? I dismissed it as mere hallucination.
But wait! There it was again! Was that my name? Or just something that vaguely sounded like my name? Who would it be?
How about Linda? Why would I not FIRST think of Linda? Instead of some random neighbor who wouldn’t even know I was outside?
I went inside to find her wedged under the sofa, reaching with a net in one hand while holding a flashlight in the other. Her voice had just barely made it out from under the couch, through the open window, and to my dimwitted ear, as I’d sat on a stool intently focused on the froglets in front of me.
To be continued.
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