Friday, May 03, 2013
The picture above was taken from my barely opened backdoor on Wednesday, about ten minutes into a heavy rainstorm. It's raining again today -- third day in a row. If all the precipitation we've had over the past few months has anything to do with the polar ice cap melting, I wouldn't be surprised to wake up one morning and discover polar bears washed up in my yard.
Wednesday's downpour helped me solve a mystery. What caused me to take my camera to the door in the first place wasn't the rain but a familiar voice I heard "singing" in it. For about a month now I've been awakened in the night by some creature that seemed to be right outside my bedroom window. I couldn't tell if it was a frog or a bird. It sounded like a frog but was unusually high pitched. Sometimes it's been so loud I've gotten out of bed and looked out the window to see if I could spot it. Wednesday was the first time I've heard it in the daytime. This is what I found:
That little tree frog has made its home under the trim on my bedroom window. No wonder I couldn't see it when I looked out: it was only inches from my head. The tiny green and pink frog is about an inch and a half long from nose to rear end, which is amazing when you consider that its voice box must be at least as big as a one-gallon pickle jar.
I've stalked it ever since I found it peeking out of its hiding place. It's small enough to completely conceal itself underneath that narrow trim, and it's been there every time I've checked except late at night, around eleven. I suspect that's when it goes out partying, only to come home drunk in the wee hours and hoot and holler with no consideration for the neighbors.
On those nights when I've dragged myself out of bed to try to find the source of the noise, I've intended to shoo it away. But that was before I knew it lives here. The small space behind the window trim is its home, its haven, a place where it's safe from hungry birds of prey and whirling lawnmower blades. I have no reason to believe home is less important to a tiny frog than it is to me, so I'll let it stay where it is for now. From now on, when I hear its shrill croak, I might even sleep better, knowing it's arrived home safely.
I can always take a nap if I need to.