Soggy Froggy Green

Smiley Frog

Photographer Christine Buske

   Lush velveteen green summer reluctantly relinquished it's reign to a late Autumn exploding with bedazzling reds, oranges and golds in the tree tops which shaded the still lush lawns. The green ground cover fought like a small child to stay awake long past bedtime. Finally, winter arrived, sending heavy frosts to blanket the ground. The Summer's green faded into a dormant sleep; only the evergreens  remained vigilant to provide shelter and shade for the shorter days ahead. The chilly rains continued to drench the sleeping earth. Relatively mild in temper this year, Winter saved it's climatic performance of sleet, ice and snow for the finale of it's time on the seasonal stage.  The curtain dropped, the scenes rearranged, then once again a new act began.
   Spring blustered in with torrential rains and raging winds, which upstaged the sun's performance, only giving him a token moment or two. The ground drank its fill until saturated and still more rain fell. Puddles and pools stood everywhere. Ducks swam in the yard. Lawns became swamps. Mud covered everything. Blooming flowers and budding trees cried with hunger for the sun's brilliance. At the director's command, Spring had to bring Old Sol center stage for a few solos. With his warmth, he charmed the blossoms open and the buds to burst forth. His serenade awakened the well watered grass. The scene ends as the standing water recedes.
   To the showers and storms were added fog, drizzle and mist into the next scene. The waters rose even higher than before. Lakes in fear of drying up from years of drought, now waved and splashed with greater depth; boats now danced across them once again. So, the storms would blow in, the torrents would fall, the clouds would linger and drop to kiss the ground.
    Worms multiplied by the thousands, ant hills sprang up all around to aerate the soil. And in the dark cover of night, the creature most benefited by the sogginess was the amphibian.
   Tromping through the sogginess in the predawn hour with Mila pulling me as she splashed about, I listened to the myriad of singing birds and the new addition to their chorus, the beat of the croking frogs. Mila began to sniff and snort in the puddled grass. She poked her nose at something, and drew back with a start. She pounced and poked, pounced and poked, until I reached down and discovered the object of her attention, a small frog. He was frozen  in place, so I was able to easily pick him up and hold him. Mila sniffed at him. I gave the back of his head a pet and spoke softly to him to allay his fears, then I set him down, and he tried to hop away. Mila gently played with him for a short time until he managed to lose her in the boggy lawn. I then tread carefully as there were many frogs about that morning. On the following walks in the wee hours we encountered more froggies in the froggy green grass. I enjoyed their croaking. And, as an added bonus for rising early, I enjoyed the rising sun casting its glow upon the gray mist which slowly dissipated to reveal still waters, heavy dew laden grass, glistening roses and a canopy of brilliant green leaves. I feel blessed with such a Soggy Froggy Green spring.

Lori Dawn Vidak
5-5-15

Evergreen

     Autumn has passed. The colorful array of leaves have fallen and turned brown, now trodden underfoot or sunk to the bottom of the lakes. The grasses have faded to brown. Yet, left is the evergreen trees and bushes so familiar to Christmas time. Such deep, rich shades of green are often decorated with nature's ornaments: the artful pine cone, the chandelier-like mistletoe, brilliant berries of red, sometimes blue, or the nuts of varied earthy shades and shapes. Before the memory of the green summer and colorful fall has faded, the holiday season brings the evergreens indoors and decorates the world with a rainbow of colors.
    Hanukkah and Christmas were filled with faith, family and fun.The end of 2014 has given me extra special memories to hold onto for the rest of my life. But, sadly, the holidays have passed. While many have taken down their Christmas trees and lights, mine are still up. I usually keep them up for a couple of extra weeks to hold onto a little of the magic as the routine of the new year, a busy schedule and the dead of winter take hold of me.
     Yet, in the midst of sometimes bitter cold, winter storms and boredom, I look to the evergreens. Thoughts of mountain pines--or perhaps palm trees along a golden beach--bring a respite from the mundane.

Lori Vidak 1-8-15