Can't believe it's Tuesday. Overcast, warm with Peepers. Spring Peepers they're called, a Chorus Frog which means they all sing together in a most nerve shattering way should a person live within half a mile of their home. And this particular branch of the Frog Family is pretty much certain to come up against an arctic reaction to anything like happiness during the very earlier part of the year. I'm told Peepers can tolerate having some of their body fluids turn to ice, which is just as well.
The pond, or the water feature, or the old tub full of water, or the bio-hazard,
depending upon mood doesn't host Peepers. It's the preserve of a community of
Green Frogs. Watch them hunt down a butterfly, it's more of a leap and close
your eyes technique than it is anything resembling ballet, and you can begin to
wonder how on earth the Green Frog manages an existence. But they're up and
about, contemplating stuff, and it seems quite mean that a warm spell in January
should do this to them.