Two Frogs

Seattle had a thunderstorm last night.  The lightening was terrific with its accompanying thunder.  I don't remember thunderstorms happening that much when I lived here.  After a few hair raising moments taking down the large outdoor awning we had up, we settled in to a TV show until the storm took out the electric briefly and we lost our satellite connection.

The next morning I went out to do my walk to get in my steps (did I tell you Jim found his FitBit in a shirt pocket a few days back after we thought he'd lost it?)  Coming around a corner, I spied a young man carrying something.  At first I thought he had a snake hanging down from his hand and I was certain I would not go anywhere near him!  But as I got closer I realized he was carrying the largest frog I had ever seen.  Catching it under his camper, he was relocating it to a safer, grassy area to the side of the RV Park.  I could not resist taking a photo of this critter nor the opportunity to touch a frog for the first time in my life-if not now, when?  (Since I already am married to my Prince, I elected not to kiss him however!)

His hands were four fingered.  The webbed feet were five fingered.  To the touch, he was smooth and warm (not slimy!)  He was playing "dead" and not moving, but he peaked at us from his slightly open, golden green eyes.  If I had been really brave, maybe I would have held him.  I did not.  It was a fun experience though doing something totally unheard of in my past.  Touching a frog was a step toward the "why not?" freedom that comes with age.  The shackles of my mostly self-imposed rules were loosened today by touching a frog.  The door closing me off from feared and untried experience opened a crack today and the sliver of light it let through was delightful.

Rounding the corner of my continuing walk, I passed a metal sculpted frog.  For me, it represented an entirely new meaning than when I passed it the day before.

Blackberries

Blackberries are getting ripe in Washington.  Creeping along fences and onto pathways, they seem to grow wherever there is not an ongoing effort to contain them.  Interestingly all of the berries do not ripen simultaneously, granting anyone willing enough to brave the thorns that protect this succulent fruit multiple opportunities to gather the black, juicy tidbits the vines offer.  The sunny summer weather has produced a bounty to harvest.  How sad that so many will pass by and fail to gather this gift of nature until the overripe fruit falls to the ground below to tempt smaller gatherers or to perpetuate the vines themselves with their fallen seeds.

There is an unused building near the entrance to the RV Park where we currently reside.  From the street the structure looks almost abandoned with windows boarded up and the growth of blackberry canes surrounding it on all sides in the mounded shapes of greenery their growth favors.  I cannot help but imagine bears in their mountain habitats surrounding Seattle must also be finding the potential blackberry harvest a treasure trove of sweetness.

The fence between the entrance road of our RV Park and this unused building hides most of what is beyond but does not deter the blackberries that dangle along its top.  Mingled with an occasional sprig of red currant berries and a few blooming wildflower vines, the blackberries seem to beg for an artist’s stroke on paper or a photograph.  Bees from their hive hidden in a bush on the opposite side of the road busily rush to and fro and swirl through my imaginary painting.  They are on missions to gather other bounty from the late summer’s offerings and do not pause with me or on the berries. 

All of this happens within the narrow confines of a driveway in the middle of a city block lying between two major highways.  So many will never know the pleasures of this brief moment with nature as I walk.  I have been provided with a glorious example of the eternity of nature and the awe it evokes.  The city fades away from my consciousness and the cool morning air encourages me to walk further.  What other stories will be told to me as I travel this temporary path in our travels?