And I’ve the pictures to prove it – the frog whispering that is.
This handsome amphibian and I gave each other a shock on Sunday morning. I was tidying up the overgrowth of self-sown columbines and lady’s mantle outside the kitchen door. And there he was under a columbine leaf. We both froze, until I thought to grab my camera. By then he was on the move, but froze again as the Lumix closed in. Being Sunday I was finding it hard to focus, and thinking he was about to flee, I started talking to him very quietly. And darn me, if he didn’t sit right up and listen:
I don’t know how well frog-human relations have been documented beyond that seminal work of the Brothers Grimm, but I can report there was no clinch, and thus no princely transformation. And it being an unfocused Sunday morning, as I said, I soon ran out of things to talk about and so returned to garden work, while he hopped off to his drain pipe in the wall. A brief encounter then. We will probably never meet again. But at least I have the photos. I can dream…
copyright 2016 Tish Farrell
