The Amazing Frog Adventure On An Already Special Day

I don’t get a lot of alone time with my brother, since we live in different parts of the country, so this was a special day.  Typically, we were late in getting started.  In the passenger seat of his F250, boat on trailer in tow, I sat waiting for him to fill the tank at the local Hess station so we could begin our boating adventure.  It was a beautiful November afternoon in northwest Florida, getting warmer as we waited, the Louisiana Catahoula and I.  Being the only occupant with an opposable thumb, or any thumbs at all, I opened the door to let in the lovely cool breeze.

Within seconds, something flew through the door, landing with a wet-sounding “kersplat” on the overflowing console.  It was a tiny tree frog, appearing from who knows where, presumably there for a short visit.  Before he could hop about and get lost in the contents of the truck’s cab, I scooped him into my palm and he immediately did what all creatures do when they are in fear.  I held tight and flicked his nervous contribution on the floor.

The frog rode in my clasped hands, head and sticky toes peeking through my finger gaps, looking for freedom.  He was determined to find a way out of the confinement and somehow squeezed and flattened himself between my locked thumbs, jumping with another splat back on the console.  This time I retrieved and held him closer, determined to get him to a nice place to call his new home.

Once at the dock by the lake, while my brother readied the boat for a launch, I released my little frog friend and the dog ran around getting more excited by the minute about the upcoming boat ride.  I let the frog loose on the far side of the two rows of cypress trees that flank the shore of the lake, statuesque and full of knobby knees.  He sat in the grass then hopped tentatively at first but  I was sure he would find his new home appealing.  He wore a little bit of fuzz from my fleece but I didn’t disturb him to try to remove it.

Happy Louisiana Catahula

blue heron in tall grass

cypress knees

water lilies

great blue heron

great white heron

I helped launch the boat; the dog boarded happily.  We had a wonderful adventure for the next several hours, roving through a chain of lakes and exploring the shorelines.  We saw a red-tailed hawk, several blue herons, great white herons, a flock of ibis, snowy egrets and my favorite, the sandhill cranes.  We also saw fish and turtles, flowering lilies, beautiful moss-draped cypress trees and waterways that seemed to go on forever.

sandhill crane

sandhill crane

sandhill cranes

The most exotic bird we saw was a purple gallinule, who was fearless and seemed to be protecting something in the reeds behind him.  He marched back and forth across the water plants, like a soldier guarding his fortress.  His iridescent purples and blues and candy corn beak were something to behold

purple gallinule

cypress trees at the shore 

Three hours later, after picking up my sweet fun-loving niece at another shoreline, we returned to the boat launch, but pulled to the shore adjacent to the dock, in front of the cypress trees and about 25 feet from where I released my frog friend.  As my niece stepped off the boat into the shallow water at the shore, she saw my little frog friend, still with his piece of lint from my fleece shirt, sitting in the sand just at the water’s edge, as if waiting for our return.  We couldn’t believe our timing and our good luck to have encountered him again.

turtle enjoying the sun

How is it that one little frog visited us twice, choosing his location and timing it carefully, making us smile and causing us to wonder how he found us?  First at the Hess station and then after hopping through that grove of cypress and positioning himself in the exact place where we returned some hours later.  

blue heron flying in front of a house

I’ve always had a thing with animals and especially frogs.  This is just one more example of the little miracles that occur when you stop to notice them.

We placed the frog on a cypress tree, still with his little piece of lint clinging to his side, hopeful that he would find others of his kind in the shade of the beautiful mossy trees, along the shore of the lake in Citrus County, Florida.  What a special day.

frog friend on cypress

Learning to Wait

Sandhill crane, Citrus County, Florida 

Patience is a necessary quality for any person unfortunate enough to be among the ranks of the unemployed.  If you don't already have patience, you will learn it during this process.  I was not prepared for this seemingly endless period of hurry up and wait nor for the highs of the maybes and lows of disappointment.  Learning to wait is one of the most important lessons I am working on.

Sandhill crane on nest, Citrus County, Florida

Just last week I spent a few days in Florida.  In addition to family, it is home to the sandhill cranes in winter (many migrate north to Canada for the summer season).   

I was pretty low about the job situation when I arrived, and so ready for an adventure.  My brother arranged for me to visit a friend’s property where most mornings some 100 sandhill cranes visit.

I spent two very long, chilly mornings watching and waiting for their anticipated arrival;  I waited, quietly, for more than 4 hours.  They never came,  but something perhaps more important happened.

Citrus County, Florida

I was calm.  I did not get mad when they failed to arrive.  I enjoyed the anticipation and the time outdoors; I found other things to appreciate and enjoy during the wait. 

This experience was much like the past 14 months, except that I was even better prepared.  I  had the right clothes and the necessary supplies (two camera lenses, extra batteries, lens cleaner and a large cup of coffee).  Perhaps most importantly, I was fully aware that the wait was likely to be long, and could be fruitless.    

Great white heron, Citrus County, Florida

Great blue heron, Citrus County, Florida

Tom and part of his harem, Citrus County, Florida

Lone sandhill crane in morning fog, Citrus County, Florida

On the first day, my brother went with me and we spent the first hour together, without interruption.  It was absolutely worth it for that part alone.  But I was doubly rewarded.  Like the past months when I have spent unexpected time with nature, I was given an extraordinary gift.  Through the fog we observed deer, two flocks of wild turkeys, a great blue heron and a great white heron.   I had never seen a Tom Turkey leading his flock.  It was fascinating and gave me a better understanding of the term “turkey trot”.  Those girls can really move when Tom gives the word!  Rather than 100 sandhill cranes, I saw one lone sandhill walking around the owner's yard.

Deer and Great Blue Heron, Citrus County, Florida

Vultures, Citrus County, Florida

Hungry gator, Citrus County, Florida

On the second day, the fog lifted and I saw the sun rise higher and observed more turkeys and deer, a little blue heron and my old friends the great white and the great blue.  A pileated woodpecker flew by and a dozen enormous turkey vultures perched in a nearby tree and flew so close that their wings sounded like beach umbrellas on a windy day.  I heard the wild turkeys continuing their loud chatter long after they trotted into the woods.  Then I saw a second great blue heron fly low over the other, calling out to him.  He reacted quickly and flew off in pursuit, making a great deal of noise.  Moments later I realized what the commotion was about when, in the same spot where the great blue had been only moments before, a 5-foot alligator, looking greatly disappointed, crawled out of the water to lie in the sun in lieu of his anticipated feast. 

Early morning squirrel, Citrus County, Florida

While a little disappointed that I didn’t see the flock of sandhills I had heard so much about, I left that second day feeling refreshed and reinvigorated.  I had in fact spent a fair amount of time talking to God about my situation, asking for guidance, and meditating.  It was time well spent.

Interestingly, I later found out that our information about where exactly to go to see the sandhills was not quite right.  Also like job hunting, it seems that if you aren’t clear in your directions or are not focused correctly, you can be very very close to your goal yet miss it completely.  The cranes were on a nearby piece of land and I was just not quite close enough.

Sandhill cranes near Weeki Wachee Springs, Florida

On another day, I spotted a sandhill crane along a rural road and my friend and I pulled off to see it.  He moved quickly away from us and into the shallow marsh.  In the middle of the marsh sat another crane and he headed toward her.  She rose and exposed a tiny fuzzy crane chick, probably only a few days old.  The baby walked to the edge of the nest to greet his father, then walked between his doting parents, seemingly enjoying the freedom of a few feet of playspace.  The parents paid much attention to him, gently nudging him back when he got too far from the center of the nest.  It was a sweet scene.  I couldn’t have asked for anything better than that. 

Job hunting, like life, can involve a lot of spinning wheels, looking in all the wrong places and waiting endlessly.  Then when you least expect it, something good happens that might not be what you had envisioned at all.  

Lessons learned:  Be mindful of where you look and don’t give up.  It’s worth the wait but it might take longer than you planned.  You never know what is around the next bend; it could be an ugly old wood stork!

Wood Stork, Pine Island, Florida