Somewhere deep amidst the horsetail shoots above is a tiny frog. He can be heard, but rarely seen.It’s so funny—sometimes a raven will land in the tree outside my window, hoping I will see him and leap to my feet to get him something to eat. If I don’t notice him for awhile, he will start cawing. Then if I still don’t respond, he’ll leave.
There are two small frogs living in our barrel fountain near the raven’s tree. They’re trying to attract mates, but so far not having much success. They’ll croak almost all night long, but if you make a particularly sharp noise, they respond with a croak even during daytime.
Now comes the raven. He waits on his branch and finally says Caw. The frogs Croak. Caw. Croak. Caw. Croak…
I could listen all day to their conversation.
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