I took Jake, my Jack Russell terrier, for a walk a few days ago. On our evening walk, I had the chance to listen to a very beautiful sound, the sound of frogs. Between the first sounds of frogs and the cherry blossoms blooming, this is the best part of spring, right along with planting my garden.
The sound took me back to my childhood. Memories of nights spent on my grandparents' farm, laying in bed with the window open. They didn't have air conditioning back then (at least not until the 21st century arrived!) so an open window was a must at night. The sound of frogs would sing me to sleep. The coyotes would keep me awake. I get cold chills thinking about how close those coyotes got to the farmhouse. After Tasha, the German Shepard, passed away, some coyotes dared to cross the yard.
But on this evening, it's the frogs that remind me of a happier time. It's a simpler time that as an adult, I wish I had back. Their croaking puts a smile on my face.
We always end our walk by strolling past the yellow daffodils. They are planted by the southeast corner of the house. They are always so beautiful, but never quite last long enough for me.
Photo: Fotolia/Samo Trebizan
On our morning walks, sometimes my cat Garfield joins us. It is usually the last half of the walk since he knows he will be fed soon. Dear Garfield reminds me so much of my farm cat Tommy. Both have a love of sleeping on the tractors, especially when a nice cool breeze brings some relief on a warm day.
On these early walks I always see a few robins. It seems I've seen a couple of robins all year round. At the bird feeder, a male and female cardinal will more often than not be there. Sometimes I even get the pleasure of seeing a red-headed woodpecker at the feeder too.
Every so often, throughout the day, I will stop and listen to the frogs. It's as if they are saying, "Hoorah for spring!" I couldn't agree more.