It was a coolish, early spring evening, you know the kind where you bring a light jacket and wonder why you hadn’t opted for the fleece. It was just a little chilly, standing near the runway at the Cooking Lake airport.
The light was starting to fade and I was scanning the skies, looking for my sweetheart. He was expected to arrive soon, with his “new” plane from British Columbia so I was anxious and excited to see him land.
I wasn’t even aware of the noise; I only became gradually aware of it. Once I did, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed right away because it was an absolute roar. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was hearing. I was standing not far from the lake, and the reeds were high and moving steadily in the crosswinds that were blowing that night.
It suddenly dawned on me, I was hearing frogs; thousands and thousands of frogs, it was a great cacophony, a raucous party was underway at the edge of the lake.
Even among planes and pavement, we are reminded that nature is never really that far away. He arrived shortly afterwards, and later he showed me his latest pride and joy, his single engine aircraft, while a pack of coyotes howled in the background and I talked about frogs.
By Karen Good