Sixty degrees on a day in February. In Cleveland. You'd better believe we are enjoying every second of it-- and apparently we humans are not the only ones.
Every Spring, I await with great anticipation the wonderful sounds of the tiny "peeper frog chorus" which can be heard in the wet places of the woods around my home. Their sound means happy, warmer times, longer daylight hours, flowers and leaves reappearing and the grass turning a brighter shade of green. Can the Barbecue grill be far behind?
Sometimes, when the winter weather gives way to a preview of Spring, the little peepers get a little---well, confused...
My friend George Hoy, Innkeeper of The Inn at Brandywine Falls (here in Ohio)has even written a poem about it:
THE ABSENT CHORUS:
--Thoughts held by the first, lone "Spring Peeper"
One lone "peeper"; one plaintive call:
I'm alone. Where are they all?
The Chorus. The chorus. The steady din.
Why doesn't it begin?
Why am I alone out here?
Where are all the others?
Where are all the suitors?
The would-be dads and mothers?
I suppose I should be calm.
Wait until the needed balm
Of Sunshine, and warming rains
Enters many tiny brains.
And then, the chorus, thick and proud,
Will flood the evenings, singing loud.
And I'll find someone to seduce,
Happy day and may Spring come early!