It's going to rain today.
I didn't need a forecaster to tell me. I didn't need to see the thick gray clouds rolling across the sky. Even before they moved in a Little Frog told me so.
Little Frog - a green tree frog, to be precise - has taken up residence in my garden room, where he spends his days hidden in one of the orchid pots. At night he comes out and calls - quank, quank, quank.
I've made a game of looking for him, but whenever I get close he goes silent.
But last night I got lucky when I found Little Frog out, in all his glory, on a dendrobium leaf. I kept the lights dim to keep from scaring him away, and snuck up on him to snap this picture. He stayed there for some time and throughout the night I could hear him calling the rain in, or calling because it was coming in. To a frog, rain in the spring means puddles and puddles mean places to mate.
So he called and called and called until just before dawn. I could hear him in my sleep and dreamed of frogs, and woke up to a beautiful cloudy morning.
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