The Bull Frogs Exist

Wow....what a night. Last evening, George and I took a ride around...no particular place in mind, but I asked him to drive down by the house I lived in as a child on Deerhaunt Drive. The last time I was there, as I mentioned in a previous entry, I discovered how small everything had seemed compared to my childhood perception and last night was no exception. However, what an interesting stop it ended up being. I convinced George to park the truck on the side of the road (even though there was a young couple watching every move we made), because I wanted to walk down by the "ponds." As we started down the dirt road, the couple followed us and asked us if we were looking for something....humm..."not many people stop by these parts, mister." I explained that I had lived here as a child and the young woman's face lit up and asked me the years. When I told her that I lived there from 1956 to 1962 she informed me that her dad lived here at that time also. Her dad turned out to be Bob Tall, son of real estate "baron," Aram S. Tall. Bob was my brother, John's age and Bob's sister, Flossie, (yes, I am not kidding) was close to my age. We talked about the house I lived in (the tan duplex), the house her dad lived in as a child (the little red house) and the ponds. Her husband told George and I that Bob had given them the little red house as a wedding gift and they were in the process of renovations. They asked us to follow them to take a look. As we walked between the ponds, I began to tell stories about how I skated on it, caught polliwogs and evan swam in it. I told them the story about the snapping turtles - a story they had heard, but were skeptical of until I confirmed the fact that a very large snapper had gotten caught in the drain pipe when the ponds were being dredged. My grandfather stuck a shovel into the pipe trying to push the turtle through and the turtle snapped the wooden shovel handle in two. I told them about listening to the bullfrogs and they told me they still croak. I was amazed! The husband told me to just look at the edge of the pond - and sure enough, there they were. I could have reached down and picked one up, but settled on leaning over real close to let my teardrops make circles in the water. What a feeling - to see them again. I had forgotten their greenish-brown color and bulging eyes. They seemed as big to me now as when I was a child, so my perception of the frogs was untainted. Also in the pond were dozens of descendants from the gold fish that were thrown in back in the 60's. I can't believe they are still surviving in the pond. What an ecosystem that pond is. The couple said they cleared out quite a bit of overgrowth and want to preserve both of them.

We walked down the dirt road to look at their new home - still painted red. We listened to their plans for the house as well as to their hopes and dreams for the future. I left there confident that someone would love that place as much as I had and that new memories would be made that will last a lifetime. Life goes on, some things change, but I was glad to see that bullfrogs remain, happily existing, not only in my mind, but in my childhood backyard.