It’s easy to tell when spring is here. The minute the sun goes down the frogs begin their noisy raucous singing. Thousands of amphibian voices swell and fling their songs across the wet lands and ponds. They begin their informal acapella groups in the irrigation ditches and the reservoir. I expect they will start belting it out in my pond any time.
It takes a little getting used to when they seem to share my pillow at night croaking in my ear! The Pugs aren’t sure what to make of all the racket and they absolutely have it in for the frog croaking under the deck steps. He’s sooo close and yet impossible to get at. Out damn frog! Out we say!
The wonderful mocking bird is back trumpeting out his territory just before dawn. Robin scouts have returned and so have the first of the song birds. Spring flowers splash their colors to the blue sky. What a difference from last years’ horrid cold which took out so many of my garden plants. This is a new season and I look forward to what the garden does.
I am over fifty thousand words into the new manuscript. This amount of words crept up on me faster than I expected. Sort of like spring. One blink and I am half way to finishing the story. I can feel the energy building to finish the first draft. Then comes the weeding and cutting. The hard work.
Writing and gardening have much in common. Frog songs included. ;D
