I sometimes feel like an old frog that wants to croak strongly and loudly concerning matters around the Pond… and beyond the Pond…and over on my side of the Pond… but it seems the croak is noticed by so few. Maybe that’s the way it is supposed to be… But frogs croak nonetheless because that is what they do.
But then I learned that, “These calls (croaks) range from simple clicks to quacks, whistles, and long, trilling songs. The calls of some frogs can be heard up to 1 mile away.” (DK Find Out) Who could know that my Pond croaking, what I thought was a small localized croak could be heard a mile way? I just thought it was a little croak with a sound as soft and predictable as the sound of a NPR announcer’s voice. But a mile away? Loud or low…I shall croak on. So… Come Croak with me.
I’m staying over here on my side of the Pond for now and have some Cuban Coffee and Roz’s Custard Pie and hope it prepares my throat for some serious croaking.
“What I tell you now in the darkness, shout abroad when daybreak comes. What I whisper in your ear, shout from the housetops for all to hear!” Jesus