April comes in with a racket.
Pushing beyond my usual turnaround place on the trail I came across a new wetland — just a marshy bog with a cluster of scraggly swamp oaks and willows at the center surrounded by an unruly arrangement of grasses, buckthorn, spent cattails and low sticker bushes. It was nothing spectacular to look at.
"In April the ponds open like black blossoms, the moon swims in every one: there’s fire everywhere: frogs shouting their desire, their satisfaction."
Mary Oliver
But what stopped me in my tracks was the audio. It’s the first of April and, for me, the first chorus of frogs and toads rising from the water. I can only imagine what kind of social interactions are going on under the rushes and sedge covers of this ordinary little marshland. The movie wasn’t that great, but the soundtrack was spectacular.
Comments