On Saturday morning, when Dale headed off with his Boy Scout troop to put flags on the graves of the veterans at our local cemetery, I headed for the deck with my knitting and a cup of coffee. As I sat knitting, sipping and listening to Water for Elephants, I noticed a strange lump on one of the rungs of a high stool we keep on our deck. It was hard to make out as I wasn’t wearing my glasses, but there was definitely something there. So I got up and walked closer and this is what I saw:
A frog. Or toad. I wasn’t sure at first so I did some googling and identified him as a gray tree frog. He’s kind of cute, for a frog, I think.
He spent the entire day on the rung of that stool. He moved when I watered the plant that was sitting on top but he didn’t get down. That’s not surprising, given that these frogs are nocturnal. Around 7pm, just as dusk was starting to descend and I was cooking steaks on the grill, he started vocalizing. It startled me at first and I leaned right down and looked at him and said, “was that you??” He can make a lot of noise for a little fella.
Soon enough he started maneuvering on the stool. First he jumped down to a different rung and then he jumped to one of the vertical posts of our deck railing. He made his way down to the deck itself and then he was gone into the night.
I figured we’d seen the last of him but he was back on the deck all day Monday. Apparently he likes us.