Frogs, in Life and Death

Posted byKathy SimmonsPosted inDeath, Life, Loss, RelationshipsTags:, , , , , , ,

I have always loved frogs.

It started the day my father, he too a frog lover, brought my three sisters and me, to the downstairs pet department of Woolworth’s five and dime. Standing before a random aquarium, I spotted a brilliant flash of jade green, gleefully darting around the tank. And then, as if sensing my fascination, the teeny frog swam directly up to the glass, and pressed his face against it, to get a closer look at the little girl standing mesmerized, before him. The affection was clearly mutual. Yes I believe in that formative moment I was sold, as was that amiable African frog and his three tank mates. My father had the attendant scoop up all four, that wonderful and memorable day, one for each of his daughters. And we jumped up and down with a jubilance that only a new pet could bring.

The African frogs were a fragile lot and sadly, not with us for the long haul. A few years later, they were replaced by hundreds of tadpoles that materialized every Spring in our backyard pond. As they grew into froghood, we would fish them out of the pond in abandon, eagerly but delicately, with big, green nets purchased at the local sporting goods store and which still hang in our garage, a little worse for the wear; a testament to frogging days of lore.

On a trip to Puerto Rico in my early twenties, I returned home with a pocketful of souvenirs for friends and family all the same in theme: a key chain with a tiny frog attached. Known locally as the “Coqui,” a tree frog that only comes out at night and whose chirp-like chant mimics the word “Co-kee Co-kee” as if singing. Legend has it that if you spot one of these elusive frogs during daylight hours, good luck is yours for the remainder of time.

While recently organizing my closet, I found the Coqui keychain from so many years ago, its paint faded and chipping, tucked away in a shoebox. I contentedly held it in my palm and vowed to start using it again.

As I grew older, it was not necessary to see the physical frogs themselves, the simple sound of them was all I needed. Walking our dog through the dark woods behind our home, the distant sound of a high pitched peep would fill the air. The peepers serenade, and a sign of Springtime and frogs, reborn.

So, when we recently moved into a rental home that just happened to have a salt water swimming pool, I was not prepared for the traumatizing daily event awaiting me, involving the creatures I held so dear.

Each morning, generally after a heavy rain, I would discover several small frogs, who had perished overnight, floating on the top of the water, their tiny legs splayed outward, as if in silent defeat. More painful, for me were the ones that had sunk to the bottom, a clear symbol of all hope, gone. Devastated I do the only thing I can think of .. scoop them out and place them behind a large, shaded rock I discovered adjacent to the pool, upon which sits a small statue of a praying figure. Next to the rock, is a small strand of wind chimes, its rhythmic music masking a prior tragedy. I take comfort in this peaceful resting place for the little frogs, who in life, brought me so much joy.

But on some mornings, I approach the pool to spot one or two little outliers. Tiny sole survivors, treading water, floating hope. Scooping each up, I gingerly place them down on the concrete and pour a bit of plain water, ever so gently over them, in the hopes of ridding the salt from their body.

And as I watch them slowly leap away, we are both, for the moment, saved.

Published by Kathy Simmons

I am an ex New Yorker who still misses the vibrancy of the city. I seek out the humor in every day life and relay it through my stories in the hope others will appreciate as well. I love to write about growing up with my fantastically unique Irish mother whose memory inspires me every day. Although she is no longer with us, her antics are an endless staple for my tales. I currently live in Connecticut with my husband, two sons and toy fox terrier Anabel.

24 thoughts on “Frogs, in Life and Death”

  1. I’m a frog fan too. No expert by any means and we don’t have many spotted in our area. But we do have toads. Loads of toads?

    My tennis club car park is on the route they use to the small spawning kich just beyond our courts and every year I’m out there lifting the wee things to safety.

    😃🐸

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  3. Thank you for sharing these sweet froggy memories, Kathy, and I admire your roles in nature’s circle in the backyard rental, both the prayerful salutes and the net-and-fresh-water rescues.

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  6. Frogs- yoga pose called Frog, or in case of Kundalini yoga; a specific moving posture on toes, heels together bending down and standing up straight, in a frog pose! Its challenging to do several times usually 8-10, but it is a full body workout and feels good when you accomplish the set. “We love frogs” now. Especially “Heather’s frogs” named for our awesome instructor, and the specific Kundalini posture. This is a sweet story and Im doing my frogs with a new attitude because of your story. We love frogs too!

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  7. what a heartfelt sentiment to frogs 🐸 and what they mean to you! They are fantastic little creatures- Mr. Daniel stocked his pond with them when i was a kid. Please keep saving them from that saltwater pool!! I also admire the place behind the rock where the windchimes play…

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  8. love your sentiments towards these wonderful creatures! Your love for them in life and escorting them safely in death behind the safe rock with the beautiful wind chimes is the best gift to them! Keep on and I am inspired to add frog 🐸 pose into my yoga practice too!! Heartfelt story

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  9. We have a lot in common. My family used to go up to the mountains after church. My first youngest sister and brother were the only ones around then but we waded into a creek after taking our shoes and socks off. There’s a photo of me in the creek in my church dress proudly holding a frog! We have a creek down the hill behind our condo building and we hear the peepers too. I am almost 73 but kept my inner child alive! Looking forward to learning more about you through your blogs.

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      1. Thank you, Kathy Simmons! I am a positive, loving person. I am thankful every day for my health, family, friends, …Well, you get the idea. Have a good evening!

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