Aren’t the crocus cold?
Yesterday we had all the weather possible, except spring and of course, summer. It snowed, it showered, it iced and it pebbled styrofoam-type stuff. The wind blew hard at times and for only a very few minutes the sun shone. When is it going to be spring?
The birds believe it’s gonna happen and the buds, see the crocus and the snowdrops, above. The critters and the frogs believe it too.
Each year my husband and I have an unofficial contest: Who will be the first to hear the frogs croaking in our pond on their search for mates?
This year, he was the lucky one. I remember years back taking the portable phone outside to let him hear the joyous cacophony. Those frogs are noisy! He must have been visiting the museums of New York City.
And they’re not just noisy, they’re private. We can hear them clearly from the house, but if you try to walk over to the pond, even carefully, they hear or see you and the frogs scatter and hide. So it’s neat that we got this shot.
In some years, after they have mated and the pond is full of egg sacks it freezes over. Even then some seem to survive, to go back into the woods and then find their way to the pond once again.
In a few weeks or less they’ll be gone and we’ll be listening to a new sound.
The tiller. Turning up the soil in the garden.
Soon it will look like this. Early spring with peas and potatoes planted. So much to do!
