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The green frog is everywhere. Tiny green frogs. They congregate around any outdoor light source to eat moths and bugs, and this adds to my discomfort. Not only do I have to do battle with moths, but the also the frogs who hunt them.
Frog or tree toad? I can never remember. The differences are so slight. Turtle or tortoise? Gay people or Straight? The distinctions are so small and so hard to recall that it is better to focus on the factors that are shared.
The tiny green frogs are annoying, and that sets them apart in my mind.
Fish guts flung and smeared on our mailbox is a distinguishing factor in determining the perpetrator.
The person or persons unknown should figure out that the gay ladies who live here go fishing all the time, and are not squeamish at all about fish guts.
Fish innards are annoying, but not horrifying or sickening. I really doubt that the mail delivery person appreciated them.
The ubiquitous green frog is a necessity, because they eat bugs, which are even more annoying than the constant croaking of the frogs, whose sound far exceeds their thumbnail size. I like to listen to the birds with my morning coffee, and to the faint mooing of the cows. The tiny toads (or frogs) sometimes drown out the much pleasanter bobwhites and mockingbirds, the peacocks and mourning doves.
My cat stalks the swallows who have nested in the rafters of the shop. It’s nature. I would love to see the swallows return each year and hatch their babies in peace, but what can one do about nature and instinct? Gay people and straight people. What can one do, really, to intercede with nature? Let live, as I do the annoying and ubiquitous frogs. They do serve a purpose.