Each blossom, leaf, catkin, and every other thing holding tightly to itself in bud form, has burst forth in exuberance and sweet relief. It will not be this green, this sweet-smelling again.
Saskatoon berry blossoms
I could hear the frogs long before I reached them today. And when I did arrive at the pond, their calls were so loud that I was entirely overcome. I stood there for ages, swaying like a crazy person, drunk on the sound echoing in my ears. So very quickly, as if it wanted to join them, my heartbeat matched the song of the frogs.
I'd still be there rocking back and forth, my heart singing with the inhabitants of that pond, if someone hadn't stopped on the road above the river to look down at the strange girl keeling from side to side. I must have looked like I was having an episode. I waved and continued my walk, but I swear that my heart is still back there somewhere by the water in the midst of a thousand calling frogs.