Introduction

           The large grey rock I am lying on is pleasantly warm from the afternoon sun.  Veins of white quartz and glittering mica enhance its rough texture.  Looking past the tall orange day lilies stretching their faces to soak up the sun, I can see the brown surface of the pond shivering with ripples every time a frog, newt, or tadpole darts under the surface.  Beyond the pond and a tiny meadow lies an inviting backdrop of magnificent, tall green trees.  Let me take you there.

            As we walk beside the pond leopard frogs and small green bullfrogs hop through the long dry grasses and leap into the water with offended, high-pitched squeaks and then a hollow, “plop, splash!”  A fat bullfrog floating far out on the surface gives a cheeky banjo, “thunk.”  Another, near the inlet across the pond from us, replies, “jug-gum.”  We are caught in the middle of a frog conversation.  Though it is tempting for us to sit and listen to what they have to say, another creature has a story that needs to be told.