Mad as a box of . . .

 

Five weeks ago I took in some frog spawn from my own muddy puddle pond at the back of the house. I had installed it (badly) last year after years of finding spawn in abandoned Tupperware and odd containers, neighbours had successively removed ponds and left the frogs no where to go. 

I did this as a child once, raise frog spawn, but little did I realise the absolute joy it would bring me. They became quite quickly an obsession with their smiles and hippo like composure.

They adored cucumber and later got meal worms for protein and to try to prevent cannibalism which I remembered being a problem when I did this as a child.

The legs began bursting from them ...

and then the arms bursting from scarlet lumps, like watching the hulk transform.

Now as their tails recede, I am left with a box of frogs that I will release today, next to the muddy pond to make their way in the world. It has been miraculous and life affirming, I will miss them.