Spring Peepers

Late last Friday afternoon I was still at work in the office, waiting for the 5 o’clock whistle to sound.


It turned out to be a lovely spring day.  Over lunch I had managed to slip out for a short visit to a local book store.


One of my patients had given me a voucher for a reading program that his school was sponsoring.  Over a three-day period the Barnes & Noble book store had agreed to contribute 10% of each purchase to this special program to send books to students in Uganda.  I ended up buying The Shack and Three Cups of Tea, both of which I’d been meaning to read for quite some time; and so contributed $3.20 toward the Uganda project.


As I sat in the back office by an open window, looking out over the expanse of wetland cloaked in bare white birches and young maples, a cacophony of spring peepers erupted.  Trebles from spring song birds periodically punctuated the frenzied crescendo.


Overhead, the sky provided a faultless blue canopy for the performance.  Although lingering patches of snow had disappeared over the course of the past two weeks, the woods still seemed to be wintering over:  bare trunks and grey branches, brown leaves, cinnamon sand.


Momentarily, the peepers died down to a few isolated chirps, then once again welled up into a feverish frenzy.  I sat back and closed my eyes, meditating on their orchestral orations.


I look forward to the appearance of these little frogs each year.  Their song ignites in me a certain undefined hope that heralds the coming of spring.


2 comments on “Spring Peepers

  1. Kawika says:

    The cycles of nature hold such promise — like the music of the spheres. I always think of D. Thomas’ lines “The force that through the green fuse drives the flower” at this time of year. In our four score years — we experience it fleetingly — yet the peepers have been there for 1000s of years.

  2. […] had come quite close to being spoiled, but in the end an unexpected orchestral performance of spring peepers redeemed it. Share this:ShareTwitterRedditFacebookDiggStumbleUponEmailLike this:LikeBe the first to […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s