Life Cycles
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As a child, I used to keep frogs as pets. We would collect tadpoles, and marvel at their transformation into frogs. (The tails absorb into the frogs' bodies!) I fed my frogs with bugs that I collected in my father's immense woodpiles. And, usually, the frogs would escape and we would end up chasing them around the living room.
When I worked at the Glimmerglass Opera in rural upstate New York, my friend Ellen told me about her friend who owned a local plant nursery. He kept track of the seasons, and had a record of the date that the spring peepers started singing every year. I was always in awe of his connection with the beautiful part of the country that he called home.
Robb and I moved around so much over the years that we often didn't get to know a place well enough to appreciate the subtleties of the the passing of the seasons.
Right now, I'm working in an amazing studio in a truly rough part of West Oakland. Our studio is next to the freight train yards, under the legs of the freeway. People regularly abandon the contents of entire apartments on the side of the road, and we often come to work and see the burned pavement and broken glass where someone has torched a car.
We don't see a lot of spring wildflowers, where I work.
It has been raining like crazy this week, and for whatever reason, there's been a break in the rain just as I'm leaving work at 7pm. And each night, I've stopped and listened because there has been a unmistakable chorus of frogs singing.
It was remarkable to hear something so lovely in such an unlikely place.
As a child, I used to keep frogs as pets. We would collect tadpoles, and marvel at their transformation into frogs. (The tails absorb into the frogs' bodies!) I fed my frogs with bugs that I collected in my father's immense woodpiles. And, usually, the frogs would escape and we would end up chasing them around the living room.
When I worked at the Glimmerglass Opera in rural upstate New York, my friend Ellen told me about her friend who owned a local plant nursery. He kept track of the seasons, and had a record of the date that the spring peepers started singing every year. I was always in awe of his connection with the beautiful part of the country that he called home.
Robb and I moved around so much over the years that we often didn't get to know a place well enough to appreciate the subtleties of the the passing of the seasons.
Right now, I'm working in an amazing studio in a truly rough part of West Oakland. Our studio is next to the freight train yards, under the legs of the freeway. People regularly abandon the contents of entire apartments on the side of the road, and we often come to work and see the burned pavement and broken glass where someone has torched a car.
We don't see a lot of spring wildflowers, where I work.
It has been raining like crazy this week, and for whatever reason, there's been a break in the rain just as I'm leaving work at 7pm. And each night, I've stopped and listened because there has been a unmistakable chorus of frogs singing.
It was remarkable to hear something so lovely in such an unlikely place.
Comments
Grinch
I used to hear those frog peepers in Florida in the Everglades, until the alligators ate them.
The one thing I want to know- about the sounds of France you will soon be hearing- do the police cars in Europe still have those - eeeee-rrrrrr--eeee-rrrr- sirens I used to hear in all the Pink Panther movies? I loved that.
Now I'm not suggesting you break the law or anything like that in order to answer my question.....
-but it would be a nice effort.
Annalisa
You leave for France tomorrow and,therefore,(lawyers love that last word)"Bon Voyage" and a question: is it a 'voyage' a flight over the Atlanic Ocean? Roget's is big on making the word very salty. Remember all the good times with your Dad over the years with your sister and enjoy the company you are with.
Love,
Mom and Dad B
Well we had to use a ladder to do this right? And Robb has a history with ladders, right? Well, he will appreicate the humor in this story. Between Gary and I trying to use this gigantic extending ladder, and trying to open it up and not knock out a window or ourselves, we ended up screaming QUITE A LOT at each other today. We did get the drain pipe fixed- by hook or by crook- and managed to do some morter patching as well around the attic and second story windows also.
All ended well, and we got the job done. But suffice to say, according to our neighbors we are now officially known as Miss A**hole and Mr Mother****er.
Annalisa