Songs in the Night

Three nights ago, I turned out the lights and settled into bed. The cello solo was softy inhabiting my background, a good book was at hand and the window was open to the last-gasp sounds of summer. A loud chirp broke through my unconsciousness and I wandered back out to the darkened living room. My first thought was that it was a wayward cricket. But the song was too loud and insistent. When I put the lights on, it stopped. Turn the lights off, it stated again, sad and melodious. There was no doubt, it was a late season tree frog singing for a lover.

For two nights, I was privileged to his serenade. Then he stopped. Well, he never really stopped. He merely moved deeper into the house. Tonight, I heard him in Julia’s den, perched in a plant, sucking up all the summer moisture he could find. Singing for a mate.

Unless a lady makes the same mistake (or smart move,) he will die alone, the end is near. Not for his species, just for him.

I retired to my bedroom, where, over the cello solo, I heard the call of the coyotes as they ran down the mountain to the swamp in hot pursuit of a deer. I sent along a wish for that deer of escape or a quick death.

Ultimately, I would chose to be the deer facing it head on, rather than the frog who made a bad decision…

Photo credit:

Photo credit:


5 thoughts on “Songs in the Night

  1. Great analogy. Good post! I think I know a few human males, who due to bad decisions, will most likely die alone. I’m making a joke, of course, but there is (sadly) a bit of truth there as well. 🙂

Love to know what you are thinking! And thank you for commenting.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s