#1 Son walked out the front door last night on an errand. He was soon back, and calling, “Mom, mom… come here!” So I hurried over to see what was up.

And there on the side of the house was a little froggy visitor. He was poised under the light by the front door. I imagine it was probably a great place to catch bugs. Probably warmer than the rest of the garden, too. It’s been chilly at night.

I think it’s the little frog that’s been croaking in the butterfly bush all summer. I don’t mind. In the summer we always have frogs croaking and owls hooting up the mountain. Far from keeping me awake, instead I sleep well listening to the non-urban sounds I grew up with.

But I haven’t heard the little frog for a couple of weeks — not since the weather got cooler. I thought he was gone for the year. But there he was! Catching bugs by the front door. You go, frog!