I’ve heard the expression; ‘spring is in the air’ my entire life. This morning I really felt the meaning. Little birds chirp outside my window at dawn. When I hear them, I feel peaceful and safe.

The bird songs wake and awaken me. For a few moments in the early light of a new day, some birds and I share the same space. Some mornings I get up and look out in hope of seeing them, but I haven’t found them yet. They sing every morning though and when I hear them; I snuggle in and enjoy their anonymous greeting. We share the earth, we share the dawn, then they go their way and I go mine.

On my morning walk to the frog pond, I wondered if I would recognize Sog. Even though he made an impression the other day, I didn’t know if I would be able to tell him apart from the other frogs.

As I approached the pond, I realized that recognizing Sog was the least of my problems. A man stood at the edge of the pond while his young Golden Retriever frolicked in the water biting at bugs, and frogs . . .?

My heart pounded. Would a dog eat a frog? Was Sog still alive?

“Good morning,” the man smiled and waved.

I did the same as I scanned the pond for any signs of amphibians. My morning coffee roiled in my stomach and at the same time, I laughed inwardly at my fear for a frog.

In a few minutes, the dog got bored. He stood in the murky water with a doubtful expression on his face. His master called, “Come on Max.”

Max turned and swam toward the muddy bank. A frog kicked out from the reeds. Sog!

I knew it was Sog instantly. I could tell. You know how it is when you recognize a friend or family member. It’s a feeling of familiarity that leaves no doubt. He turned an eyeball toward me.

The dog was clawing and pawing at the bank. He couldn’t get his footing in the mud. His owner encouraged and clapped. Sog watched barely blinking and I knew what he was thinking. That guy needs to pull his dog out of the pond. He was going to get wet and dirty.

I sat down on my wobbly stone. Sog did a few deep knee bends and we both sat back to enjoy the show.

Sure enough the dog owner, wearing street shoes and khaki’s, cautiously approached the bank. His feet sunk in just enough for the mud to ooze over the tops of his shoes. And just then, in perfect harmony with the nature of dogs, Max leaped from the pond and shook. His owner shouted something inaudible and probably not worth repeating. When he looked over at me with an exasperated expression, I smiled and waved.

“Have a great day,” I said.

The guy chuckled. “You too.” He glanced at the pond. “Look, there’s a frog in the pond.”

Sog ducked under the surface.

“Really, where?”

“It was just there.”

I nodded. The man blushed and walked away with his muddy dog and shoes. In a nearby shrub, some birds began to chirp. The surface pond rippled to life as several frogs emerged from their hiding places. Sog swam around showing off. I watched him and contemplated the morning’s events.

All worlds touch.

Amphibian – origin 1637 – ‘having two modes of existence’. from Greek amphibia – from amphi – ‘of both kinds’ and bios – ‘life’. —WordBook iPhone app

What touches your life?

Watch this fun, fast, frog film.

Lately, I’ve noticed when I sit down to write, I want to write about good things. I may have rushed to the keyboard with a furious rant in my head about some news event or an irritating injustice of daily life, but when I sit down a clam comes over me and I forget what was bothering me. I know it’s not possible to say only good stuff all the time, but it’s worth a try.

Okay, I see that I said clam up there when obviously I meant calm. But now that I mention it, clam is the right word. The idiom ‘as happy as a clam’ is based on the phrase as happy as a clam in mud at high tide. This refers to the point that a clam in mud at high tide most likely will not be dug up and eaten. That’s a fair desire, and one that we all share. Nobody wants to be dug up and eaten.

Has anyone else noticed the rising tension in the atmosphere? As a writer, I need to find a place inside myself from which to create. The world of nature has always provided this place and I have made sure, throughout my life, that I surround myself with enough nature to escape into whenever necessary. It’s not as easy as it sounds, especially nowadays. A five-minute trip into the woods is no longer enough time to shake off the extraneous energy of others. I have to walk farther. I don’t mind. If I could, I would just keep walking all the way back to my ancient ancestry ape-ness. Somewhere along that journey, my cell phone would disappear and I wouldn’t even notice.

Since it’s not possible to vanish backwards in time, we have to deal with what is going on around us now. There are a lot of people who are struggling, who are disappointed and discouraged. There are also a lot of angry people out and about. The biggest problem I see is self- inflation. I’m not against self-preservation. I thoroughly believe in it and self-actualization as well. What I would like more people to realize is that it is not necessary to step on others in your own particular struggle to survive.

In my wanderings, I notice various animals before they notice me. This morning I encountered a frog resting at a pond. I heard him before I saw him. It sounded like he was saying, “Waaaahh . . waaaahh … His eyes floated just above the water and I realized he had been watching me. I surmised he might have been alerting the other frogs that a human was approaching. I sat down on a small wobbly rock, listened, and watched. He scooted away with a frog kick but came right back. He was joined by another frog that glanced at me and darted for cover.

This frog settled himself among the weeds and brown water, blowing in and out and voicing his concerns. It reminded me of why I had gone for a walk in the first place. “What’s up?” I asked him. He stretched out and balanced his front legs on a leaf that floated in the rippled pond. He waahhed some more. “What’s wrong with people?” I asked.

The frog hunkered under the water; took a deep breath filling his cheeks and then his entire body. “Waaaahh . . .” he said loudly.

Other frogs, that sat contentedly in the shadows, scattered and leapfrogged out of sight.

“You scared your friends away.”

For a second it looked as if my frog friend held his breath, but soon enough he filled his slimy cheeks and released a soft waaaahh. His fellow frogs circled and settled in among the weeds again.

The frog rolled his big eyes toward me as if asking for approval. “That’s better,” I said. “Try not to scare your friends away by complaining.”

Sage advice from a frog. I decided to call him Sog.