A very mild Winter, a frog outside my window has been croaking daily. I answer him; might be a her for all I know. It is is just one frog calling, I thought heard another, a different croak, answering about a month ago and then it sounded like they came together, but parted shortly and now the original has moved to another side of house and we still talk. Sometimes when it gets chatty, I start to go very quietly to the front door and think about sneaking around to see where and what kind it is, and as I start to quietly turn the latch it gets super quiet again.

I realized this morning when I understood the croak, that we all want to connect with something and affirm our existence. Me and the frog quietly alone and chirping and croaking to see if there are are others like us and there are. Different, but wanting answers that require hopeful croaking, sitting, reading, doing ceremony and things congruent with our natures, and being wistful as mild Winter turns into Spring.