tonight i went for a walk instead of a run. it was close to 80º and i needed a day to stretch out my legs with a walk. i started off listening to a podcast, but when i turned off the county road near my house and onto one of those little side country roads, i turned it off and took out my earbuds.
you see, there is a little bit of a marshland right on that road, and the frogs were out in force tonight.
one of my favorite things about spring is the sound of frogs croaking delightfully in the evening. there is a low rumble of frog croaking, with highlights of croaks that almost sound like crickets. as i walked past, the croaks paused for a moment, then started up again after i’d left the near vicinity.
compared to the silence of winter, enveloping and complete, the sounds of spring is pure cacophony. on top of the frogs, birdsong flitted through the air, the light, high-pitched tunes of songbirds. occasionally, i heard the dinosaur-like call of cranes, sounding like something otherworldly. then in the background of wildlife, the low hum of the freeway whined on, with breakout motorcycle engines revving.
i walked the rest of the way home listening to the sounds around me. it’s a weird time of year; there is no green, so it looks like november, but the light is long in the day and the air is wet and getting warmer. the hope of spring like the frogs: loud and nonstop.
now i’m in my living room with my windows open, surrounded by frogs croaking and a weird owl making a racket.