In the Silence of Frogs

We were drunk (but that doesn’t matter)

As we walked the “River Trail,”

My husband lit the face of his watch--2:03 A.M.

I only switched on the flashlight

A couple of times,

But never did see the moon.

Our feet, scuffling across

Dirt and gravel, kicking then stumbling

Over bigger rocks and stones,

That’s what I heard

Until John said, “Shh!”

And we stopped dead on the path--

BIG ribbits, little ribbits, croaks

Loud and soft, near and far

All along the slow black river.

“Have you ever held a bullfrog?”

John asked. I smiled in the dark,

Pretended to cup both spread hands

Around the large, damp belly of one;

Pictured its long back jumping legs

Hanging limp toward the ground,

Felt the heaviness, my excitement.

I used that flashlight

To find a break in the grass and bushes

To make our way down the slope

On a thin, worn path to the water--

Ribbit, ribbit, croak, ribbit, ribbit-ribbit…

My left foot sunk in the mud.

Again, in the dark, we stood,

John behind me, both of us listening:

RIBBET! one so close.  Flick

Back on the light, pointing

Hoping--nothing.  Turn it off.

Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit-ribbit, CROAK, ribbit--

Another flash, this time to the left

Scanning the reeds, bases of irises,

The shallow shoals of the river.

Not a splash, no scurrying,

No underwater movement.

John and I, still once more

As the ribbits reached a

LOUD crescendo, then suddenly,

As if the maestro jerked his wand

Stopped. Every. Last. One of them.

Reviews

[Dave Brown]

All very spooky and typically froggy
Same thing happens with the crickets in the field
one little noise instantly shuts the whole gazillion down
good atmosphere, can see it all, but watch out for prowling Sasquatch in the dark of night, they usually grab you from behind!!

[barleygirl]

Just have to ribbet over to Dave Brown about what a delightful croak I just had, reading this frog-lovers poem *wink! wink!*

[PamiAnde]

Dave, happy to have painted the picture. I'll look forward to that cricket experience one day. Thanks for commenting! And don't worry, my Sasquatch had me covered.

[PamiAnde]

Margie, RIBBIT! OOO

[Chris Shaw]

I enjoyed your nature adventure. Frogs really do make a racket but I have never experienced them suddenly switching off the sound altogether. An orchestral performance with an abrupt end. This was an atmospheric write, visual and well related. Did you give them a round of applause I wonder?

Chris

[barleygirl]

I've done a bunch of country living over the years & everyplace I am, the frogs act that way. One minute, a cacophony, the next minute, utter quiet. This is lively saucy textured writing. I was so all the way there with you, for each step along the way. Dynamic use of visceral phrases & repetition to make this feel exactly like a night hike. The frog biz is just frosting on a solidly-built cake. I'll stop to let a frog go by . . . that's how much I love 'em! I could feel you embracing nature with a similar verve (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[PamiAnde]

Thank you, Margie! So fun to find fellow frog lovers. Glad I could take you along. I have a naughty and hysterical frog story about my dad. Due to it, he had a massive collection of non-living frogs. I'm going to have to write that one day. :-) Ande

[emmajoy]

Your words took me through a wonderful performance, Ande! The scenes, the pauses, the way you describe the surroundings and sounds are on the nai. Closed my eyes now and again to see what you were describing:: ' BIG ribbits, little ribbits, croaks - Loud and soft, near and far - All along the slow black river.- “Have you ever held a bullfrog?”- John asked. I smiled in the dark , pretended to cup both spread hands - Around the large, damp belly of one; - Pictured its long back jumping legs - Hanging limp toward the ground, - Felt the heaviness, my excitement. 'Your poem
near magical and fascinating, is so well told. The way you end your poem suggests that once in a lifetime feeling when something spiritually significant has happened. Beautiful.

[PamiAnde]

It really was moving, Emmajoy. Even drunk! Thank you so much for reading, and for your kind words. Sounds like it happens all the time, but for us, yes, magical. And spiritual. Take care, Ande