It’s easy being green …

The view outside our windows is an emerald sea these days, from our worn out lawn wearing a freshened suit of moss, to the emerging leaves on trees and bushes. The ferns are unfurling, the lily of the valley showing tiny buds, and the roses are promising blooms sometime soon. I feel a bit like Kermit the Frog, only with a positive spin on the words to the song that helped to make him famous, as I sing out “it is easy being green”.

On a recent walk around Lake Katherine, one of Kermit’s relatives was splashing in the mud,

and a pair of Mallards became mighty friendly as they waddled over to where Tom and I were bench sitting, begging for a handout. Mrs. Mallard came a-quacking right over to our knees. As tempting as it is, I do not bring morsels of bread to feed geese and ducks as it is not good for them to take food from strangers now, is it?

Well, I have a bit of list a mile long today, so, I’d best get off of this log I’ve been sitting upon, and get out and about with the day before me, which includes finishing up “Mrs. Queen Takes the Train”, composing the minutes from a meeting I’m charged to do, give the basil sitting on the countertop a home in a pot on the deck, and maybe sit for a spell in the arbor and count my blessings.

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A froggy convention and wood preachers

We waited quietly along the shore of the pond, then I saw it. Can you? You might have to click on the picture once or twice to see, but there it is. A frog. Silent and still in the shallow rim of the pond. Waiting. It was one of many Tom and I saw as we took a walk on a warm and sunny afternoon in the Little Red Schoolhouse Woods.

When Tom asked if I’d like a walk on one of the rare days it didn’t rain, I said yes. A gal working on getting her bounce back can always use a walk in a 100 acre woods, can she not?

The paths were muddy through the White Oak Trail, but the Trillium, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, and May apple were abundant on the forest floor and worth the trudge just to see them.

We swatted away at the filaments of spiders’ webs that seemed to be everywhere we walked, and a banded water snake slithered in front of Tom. Penelope Pitstop saw it, and didn’t panic, saving the Antler Man’s, or maybe the snake’s, life. A gals gotta do what a gals gotta do, I always say.

Ponds are always full of life and fascinate me. Even in winter, there is activity teeming just under the surface. Spring, ah,  springtime finds ponds full of drama, especially in this neck of the woods, and it was so on this walk about.

Several children were watching the schools of fish along the pond’s edge and folks out for a bit of sunshine and fresh air passed by. I noticed something in the center of a patch of lily pads. Still and camouflaged, it must have been standing there the whole tim. We never saw it swoop in. We watched as it perched upon a twig. It looked rather squat and small – until it’s neck slowly telescoped out and it quickly dipped into the murky water for a snack. Finally, this green heron swooped up and across the pond to a branch, sharing it with a turtle, which you can see to the right and down with a click or two on the picture.

We walked along the pond’s edge and wondered what else we could find.

Do click on the picture above. There are at least three frogs here. A regular Froggy Convention.

Isn’t it amazing what flourishes right under our noses?

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