Crrrooak!

I have loved frogs as long as I can remember. It probably started with Kermit on Sesame Street, but I have never been afraid of real frogs either. I grew up catching them and trying to keep them as pets - big old warty ones down to the cute little teeny tiny baby ones. I even have a distinct memory of licking one by accident - I had a grape popsicle in one hand and a big old frog in the other and, well, you get the idea. I was probably about 6 or 7 and was terrified I was going to get warts on my tongue. Of course I didn't and even that memory did not diminish my love for all things froggy. So, I still get excited seeing the NUMEROUS frogs all around our property even though they are ridiculously loud down at the pond. This little guy was croaking his loudest on my front porch, but I still have a place in my heart for him.

Now he's moved to the wind chime. I'm amazed at how he got there.