Spring Peepers

Last night there was a modest, almost peaceful, thunderstorm somewhere South of Ida. I saw the lightning brighten the sky in the distance but I heard no thunderous report. Lord knows what it was like in the city or town or wooded lot right below, but from my vantage point it was a delight and I rolled down my window to allow the fresh ozone fragrance and cool spring air to fill my car.
And in the undisturbed silence, beyond the shadows of backlit barns and woodlots beginning to bud I heard that beautiful sound that calls me back to life--spring peepers chiming. Those little naked monks in their wild churches glorifying God, heralds of Spring, calling every green thing, including my soul, back to life. Thank goodness. It was faint praise, I admit. Quiet, from within the deep woods. Without a good dousing from on high I guess the dry Earth in Ida won't sustain a really rousing choir, but it's a start, it's a true start and I was so glad to hear that music.

I wonder how busy they are in other parts of the state, or further South in Ohio, where I harken from. There are a few good spots to go for a real performance. Secor Park comes to mind, as does the Irwin Prairie and the watershed areas surrounding it. The woods and deep drainage ditches in that part of Lucas County, right around Springfield and Sylvania Townships, are thick with Springtime singers. Plus there are several temporary pools scattered throughout the area, formerly encompassed by, or within boundaries of, the Great Black Swamp, and some are actual vernal pools which are breeding areas for spring peepers, chorus frogs, wood frogs, and toads, and loads of other creatures.

I remember when I was a kid there was a pond in my backyard and that place was like spring peeper heaven. Hard to fall asleep sometimes because they were so loud, so close, and really the music thrills you, it gets inside of you, makes you restless, makes you feel bright and expansive. I remember the long bus ride home after school, heading down Wolfinger Road, where the back entrance of Secor Park is, and the deep drainage ditches plunging, and pushing the plastic tabs on the window so I could slap it down and fill my little seat with frog songs. I do remember that. I was more wild, then. My backyard was, too.

So now I have to finish poems for a contest that closes submissions..today, I guess, since it's 12:11 a.m. right here in Ida, MI. I have a good start on them but one poem can take me such a long time to write, especially when it has to be short. I'll post them, if I finish them, after the judging period is over.