Alexis and I sat near the fire pit deeply engrossed in a conversation about whether s'mores should have one marshmallow or two when I looked down and realized we had a guest.
We didn't invite the frogs to live in our pond. They moved in on their own accord and have since turned the area around the water irises into their own personal paradise. I don't know exactly how many are living in the pond, but I know there are multiple. We tolerate their presence, but only barely. If you've ever sat outside near a body of water in spring, you know why. Male frogs are . . . uh . . . very vocal about their desire to find a mate. They make crazy amounts of noise at volumes that seem impossible for something so small. When more than one of them start doing it, the sound can be deafening.
As Alexis and I finally reached an agreement that two marshmallows is always better than one, I noticed that our little friend had moved closer. Much closer. He was out of the water and sitting no more than six inches from Alexis, apparently enjoying the fire as much as we were.
But then he kept going. He jumped out of the pond proper and started hopping and hopping through the garden, eventually coming to a stop beneath the weeping cherry tree more than 35 feet away.
Yes, I followed a frog through my garden. What? I was curious to see what he was up to. I finally decided that he must have had a hot date scheduled and his lady love was to meet him beneath the cherry tree. My hypothesis seemed to be proven right when the little frog was so insistent on staying in his spot that he didn't mind me shining a flashlight on him and shoving the camera in his face.
See? The frog wanted his mug captured and posted here. Maybe all the other frogs in the area read this site? Maybe he needed a photo for his Craigslist ad? I can't be sure of anything other than the fact that the frog was willing to sit perfectly still for a very long time.
Eventually I grew bored of photographing my little green and brown friend and returned to the bench to continue chatting with Alexis. As she started to weave a tale filled with magic and mayhem, I realized we had company again.
I don't know where the beast came from, but THAT frog was easily twice the size of the first and far more colorful.
Which probably means the first frog wasn't a male after all.
Which probably means the girl frog ran away from her usual haunt and went to hide under the cherry tree.
Moments later, the boy frog was obviously searching the irises for a "friend." He sang his song of love and devotion at the top of his lungs.
The other much smaller and probably female frog stayed tucked safely under the cherry tree way on the other side of the yard.
Which is all to say, I do believe I witnessed a girl frog completely dissing her horny pondmate. Who knew girl frogs were such evil geniuses?