Goodbye July 🌲
Last week, my youngest woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom but stopped short in the doorway. From my spot in bed, I could see something had caught her eye on the floor. The cats came to inspect, but she shooed them away.
After a minute or two, she ran over to me.
“Mom!” she said, with that intensity kids get when they have Something Important to Say. “There’s a frog! You have to come see it, mom. Hurry!”
Of course. Another wild visitor. That’s just life in the woods.
Out of all the critters that have made their way inside our home over the past two years here, I think this one perplexes me the most. How did a tiny tree frog find his way to our upstairs bathroom? Had the kids brought him by accident when they came in from the creek?
I found a mason jar and gently scooped him up. His legs were translucent, and he seemed dehydrated, so I poured a shallow puddle of water in the jar. Then we walked him to the back patio where I laid the jar on its side so he could escape at his leisure.
The next morning, I checked the jar. The sun hadn’t yet reached the patio, and there he was. Still lounging in the dwindling puddle, seemingly content. When I lifted the jar, he was breathing and blinking and slightly annoyed at the disruption.
Matt and the kids walked him back down to the creek, where he escaped the jar and scrambled away in the woods near the water’s edge. A happy enough ending, I suppose.
As for the jar, I’m leaving it on the porch. Wouldn’t be surprised if we need it again soon.
Our big project this summer was one we couldn’t DIY, and something we weren’t excited for—but some things need doing whether you want to or not: we started logging the trees on our property. It’s been hard. Lots of mixed feelings, but mostly relief, I guess. I’m glad I won’t have to rush the kids to sleep downstairs at every gust of wind.
We’re leaving the riparian zone untouched, so there’s still forest to roam and a shady creek to play in. But now there’s a little more sunshine coming through too.
Here’s to life’s constant changes, peace of mind, and the long wait until the trees start growing again.