I have a lot of fun hunting down photos which are appealing to my eye. Landscapes with great color or significant perspective. Animals with stoic looks on their faces. People in silhouettes.
This is neither. Nothing particularly appealing about this to me, photographically. As a matter of fact, at first glance, it looked like nothing more than a spit in my pond. But the serenading croaks and crottles heard all evening long sing a different story. A story of froggy love. And what you see here are the love children, in all their fetal glory. I do have the annual pleasure of watching and listening to the amphibious love stories of a whole gosh-darn coven of froggies. A few weeks ago, while clearing some surface debris from my pond, I found the little cluster of eggs. Some may make it to full froggy freedom, many are likely to be eaten, sunny-side up, by one of the many goldfish who dwell in the small but lively ecosystem. Whatever their fate, I am forever fascinated by the cycle of life and grateful to be its witness.
Marlin Perkins, look out–I’m living in the Wild Kingdom…lol. 🙂