Greetings!

Here at Summerhill Ranch we are in my favorite time of year. It’s the time that I call "Frog-Cricket Time"… and it only lasts for a few short weeks. It’s a magical time of year—the air is still moist after the rains and the frogs are high on life, as they lull us to sleep every night with their raucous chorus. And yet, it’s warm enough for the crickets and their sweet tones to join in. Together the frogs and crickets make a nocturnal symphony that opens my heart wide and deep. Soon, however, as summer approaches and temperatures rise, the frogs recede into their hidden crevices to hibernate for another year and the crickets seize the night.
 

It’s during this time of year that I embark on what I believe to be a supreme act of love. (Okay it’s not that supreme, but it’s definitely an act of love. You’ll see why.)

At this time of year, the frogs crave water and although I’ve created have lots of small pools and mini-ecosystems for them around the land, somehow they have their own preference for their water source. They don’t seem to notice how wonderful their outdoor pools are, or the fact that that I put frog food tablets in their little ponds, or that I make sure that there is a balance of algae and fresh flowing water.

No matter how lush I think I’ve made their environment, there is something about the water in our toilets that drives them into a state of froggy ecstasy. Somehow they find a way to wiggle themselves into our toilets, even if the lid is shut. They seem like kids who can swim in the local water hole but prefer to sneak over the fence into a neighbor’s backyard to swim in their pool.

However, in my mind, there are very few things more disconcerting that getting ready to plop down on the toilet, and to see green beady eyes staring up at me in disbelief.

I can almost hear them saying, "You’re kidding, right? You’re not really going to sit here?" And instead of desperately trying to get out of their porcelain paradise, they dive into the water and disappear into some secret inner chamber, waiting until the "bare-ass monster" leaves.

I could be cavalier, and ignore the fact they are there and then flush, but I know that I will be sending them into Froggy Nirvana (well, not exactly Samadhi… it’s more like the septic system, but "Nirvana" sounds better.) So I contain my earthly needs and await their return, so I can sneak up on them and grab them before they dive into the bowl again.

This takes patience and a certain amount of humility to wait in hiding by a toilet bowl (hence my comment about a "Supreme Act of Love.")

You might ask—someone actually did—why don’t I cover the toilets with Saran Wrap until I need to use them, but quite frankly the idea of forgetting that the toilet is covered in clear plastic wrap doesn’t appeal to my sensitivities. So I continue, every spring, to be the unsung savior of frogs and wait for Cricket Time.
 

For more information, you can visit Denise Linn anytime at www.deniselinn.com