June Nights

[rejectomorph]

Someone on the last street on the edge of town must have a frog pond in their back yard. I hear an amphibian chorus happily croaking every time I walk near there. The back yards on that part of the block are on low ground near a seasonal stream and densely shaded. It must be a pleasant place for frogs. I wouldn't mind having a frog pond near my house, but there are no suitable locations for one.

Yesterday evening turned improbably pearly following an afternoon of slowly gathering cirrus clouds. The cooler and moister air of the last few days has created some lovely effects of light, especially in the evenings and under the now nearly full moon. Once the moon has settled close to the horizon, the thin haze which hugs the ground picks up the light so that every gap in the trees shows a shimmering glow. It is particularly nice when wisps of cloud drift across the moon, giving it a faintly yellow cast and softening the shadows. Then all the night is a suffusion of pale light caught in a filigree of branches, leaves and needles. The shortest nights of the year are also the softest.

Comments

[marseille.livejournal.com]

We don't have ponds here, we have runoff basins created whenever a housing development goes in. Result: stagnant water, breeding mousquitoes. Since it's rained a lot this Spring, the one near us is large, and occupied by a staggering variety of amphibians, judging by the strange sounds I hear at night. There are also ducks and geese, who add their comments. What kind of bird makes that blood-curdling sound that is just like the "jungle" noise in all the old TV shows? We have some of those, as well.
They certainly sound active and happy, but it drives my cats crazy--they want to go hunt.