It had been raining a lot.  I am vacuuming water from the pool using a sump pump connected to a water hose.  Every week since the early February rains, I have taken water out of the pool, and every week I have grumbled about it.

I told D,  “we no longer need a pool.  The children are all grown and no one swims in the pool anymore!”  But D likes the pool.  She likes the blue water.  She likes the sound the water makes as it circulates around the pool.  She likes the fact that when the chlorine is balanced no bugs, no frogs and no ants can live in the pool and especially no snakes!

So today, I am vacuuming water from the pool because over the winter the pool was drained down and a leaf cover was placed on it and another cover too, to block the sunlight.  But now, in early spring, the top layer over the pool is full of water and the frogs have arrived.

Where do frogs come from in the spring?  No one knows.  But one night when the weather warmed, for a short time the frogs began to sing.  I like the singing of the frogs.  It reminds me of happy times and happy people, friends who become so happy they want to sing! It reminds of a farm pond where I grew up.  Many years ago, in the summer time and sometimes the fall, I took the sleeping bag my dad brought home from the army and lay down on the grass in the pasture near the pond to listen to the singing of many frogs.  Sometimes, I heard the mosquitoes buzzing over my ear, and so I had to cover my head with a sheet in order to sleep, but then sometimes I would awaken to find a mosquito had bitten me right on the tip of my nose!

My mother often told me not to sleep down by the pond, but mostly I did not listen, because I found I slept well in nature and I wanted to hear the singing of the frogs.

So the first night, before cleaning the pool, when the frogs began to sing, I paused to listen. In my listening to all the many voices, I discovered three distinct voices among all the frogs.  I noticed when they sang even though there were many frogs, and all were green with gray stripes, I could hear distinctly three different voices.

So, on that first night of listening, I gave these three frogs a name.  The first frog I named “Allegro”(meaning “fast”), and the second frog I named “Lentissimo”(meaning “very slowly”) and the third frog I named “Fortissimo”(meaning “loud”).  At first I thought there might be a fourth frog, called “Pianissimo” (meaning “ very softly”), but Pianissimo was so soft he was only occasionally heard.  So, being unsure if Pianissimo actually sang, I settled on listening to three frogs, Allegro, Lentissimo and Fortissimo.  The blend of the three frogs singing was something marvelous to hear.  Night after night either I, or the little boy who still lives inside me, listened each night to the singing of the frogs.  One night I recorded Allegro, Lentissimo and Fortissimo on my digital recorder, hoping one day to make them famous all across the World Wide Web.

I called the three frogs singing, “The Three Tenors”, because I thought they perhaps came from Italy, so they must, of course, have Italian names!

I listened night after night to the Three Tenors, and came to love the music of the frogs, as it sounded like a lullaby and put me fast to sleep.

Today, however, I am draining water from the pool.  It has rained and rained and rained, and one time it even snowed, but then the snow melted, so the pool cover strains under the weight of all this water.  I am truly torn between draining the water and keeping it, because I am afraid that if I drain the water Allegro, Lentissimo and Fortissimo might stop singing.

However, I have realized the pool cover might soon burst and that will make Dorothy sad, so torn between my love for the frogs’ song and my love for my wife, I begin to drain the pool.  Now the good news is that no matter how much I drain the pool, I can never get to the end of the water, because the pool is very deep and my little pump does not have enough power to take out all that water.

I was sitting in a chair on the deck near the pool thinking about all these things, and sort of daydreaming the afternoon away, listening to the humming and whirring of the pool pump and watching the water coming out of the end of the hose, which went about 20 feet down the hill, when suddenly, I heard a “bump, kerlumph” noise, and the pool sump pump suddenly cut off.  At the same time the water stopped flowing and I realized that something had happened to stop the pump and cut off the flow of the water.

At first, I thought the pump had simply sucked up an oak leaf, but, after unplugging the electricity, I picked up the pump and found there was no leaf.  So then I thought, “What could have gotten sucked up into the pump?”  A sinking feeling came into my stomach, when I realized, “O no, I may have sucked up a frog!”  I was very upset.  How stupid I am not to realize that somewhere swimming in the water near the pump might be a frog and a frog might become overpowered by the pull of the pump and “bump, kerlumph” become sucked up into the pump, instead of the water.  This would explain the sudden strain on the pump and the pump cutting off, as something was now stuck inside the pump, or perhaps in the hose, and the question most certainly on my mind is this:  “Is this something stuck in the pump or in the hose?  And is this something a frog or something else?  And, is this something, that is, a frog still alive?  And if he is not alive is he then certainly dead?  But if he is not dead, is he somewhere safe he can get out?  And if he can get out, is he inside the hose?  And if he is inside the hose can he ever slip and slide along the hose enough to get out?

So these questions all went through my mind in rapid fire, like a pellet gun going off in my head, “Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom”, and then “boom” again.

Now in every story which is full of bad news, as “bump, kerlumph”, if we look long and hard and deep enough, we will find some good news, often only a little bit of good news, but nevertheless, a little bit is better than no good news at all!  So I went looking for a little good news.  The good news is that I found  Alfred still alive in the hose.  Not only is Alfred alive, but there is enough water for Alfred to slip and slid along the hose and possibly get out, so rather than a “bump, kerlumph” dead frog, we have a “bump, kerlumph” live frog, although certainly a little bit frightened at the suddenness with which he was sucked in and spun around in this strong whirlpool of water destined as it were to “shoot out the end of the hose”.

Now the interesting thing about Alfred is that he had never sung a note before this day, but the scream which originated deep within his soul came out while inside the pump and Alfred found his singing voice, hidden deep down inside.  Had he not been sucked into this vortex of swirling water that threatened to suck him into oblivion and beyond, he would never have known he could sing.  On that day Alfred finally became Alfredo, the newest member of “The Singing Frogs”.

But Alfred, that is Alfredo realized that unless he escaped from the hose pipe going some 20 feet down the hill he would never be known, except to himself and to God as one of the newest singing frogs.  In that moment, when Alfred –that is Alfredo was the closest to the ending of himself going down a swirling vortex of water—here Alfred – that is Alfredo found his new beginning.  In that moment Alfredo resolved in his own mind that he was not going to die; as he would not give up, but he would live and whatever it took to live and swim down that hose pipe to freedom he would do it, and so he began to swim and slide down the long and lonely pipe.  In some places, it was easy going down the hose pipe, but in other places the water was low and the pipe was more narrow than normal, and so in those placed Alfredo had to grunt and squirm along burning his fat reserve for fuel, and so he pushed himself along ever further along the pipe.  Once he scooted past another frog who had simply given up trying and had died in the pipe.  And once he scooted past a fellow bug, which was nearly as he could tell some kind of water bug with a hard shell, but his insides had rotted out and so all that was left was an empty shell.

On down the pipe Alfred went, past rough places and smooth places, places too small and some places plenty wide, past sticks and sand and clogs of dead leaves…until finally Alfred, that is Alfredo came to the end of the pipe.  Now you would think the end of the pipe was a happy place, but Alfredo knew enough not to jump suddenly out into the light.  He first allowed his eyes to adjust to the change, and as he looked out he saw a brown dog sniffing the ground near the end of the pipe.  Alfredo had heard of this brown dog, who went by the name of Petunia, as she was a Boykin spaniel with curly brown hair.  Now Petunia liked to eat frogs and unbeknownst to Alfredo, Petunia has just the day before eaten his cousin Pianissimo, who sang almost silently.  Pianissimo had hidden underneath the spinach leaves in the box garden where she had gone to relax in the afternoon sun, but Petunia had sniffed her out and with one lick of the tongue and one bite had swallowed her completely whole!

So Alfredo was wise not to poke his head out too fast, but allowing time for his eyes to adjust so he could see clearly, he waited until Petunia was distracted and looking down the hill at a wandering bird, and just at that moment he slipped out and hid beside the pipe on the outside of the end of the hose pipe.  Alfredo was smart enough to realize if he followed the hose pipe back the way he came it would lead him back to the water of the pool, which is where all his family lived and he hoped again to be re-united with his cousins “Allegro”, meaning “fast”, and “Lentissimo”, meaning “very slowly” and “Fortissimo” meaning “very loud”.

So Alfredo moved slowly, crouching near the hose pipe.  Since both he and the hose pipe had a green, slightly off grey hue, he blended in well with the hose.  But suddenly Alfredo stopped, as something caught his eye on the right corner.  He was amazed, for out in the open coming down the hose pipe toward him was a green lizard, at least it was mostly green, and sometimes it seemed to shimmer, as if changing into blue or even brown.  It was an odd site to see a lizard of many colors, but there he was and coming down the hose pipe toward him.  Now what would happen, he thought, if Petunia saw the lizard and came to investigate and instead found him instead?  Oh, the thought of it all brought cold chills to his spine, and it made him feel sick in his stomach.

So rather than continue moving down the side of the pipe, Alfredo crouched down really still and waited for the green-brown and bluish lizard to come closer to him.  And just as Alfred expected, the lizard came closer and closer but he stayed so still that the lizard thought him to be simply a part of the hose pipe and lo and behold, the lizard was moving so fast he simply ran right over his head and kept on going.

But Petunia also saw the lizard and she came over quickly to investigate, and even though the lizard stopped to hide on the hose, Petunia had spied his movement and came over quickly, stuck out her long red tongue and quickly scooped the lizard up into her mouth and ran off carrying him wrapped in her long, curled tongue.

Alfredo knew this was his chance, perhaps his only chance to get back to the pool.  As long as Petunia was roaming around she might see him too, but distracted by the lizard squirming in her mouth, she did not see Alfredo as he hopped and ran and scooted along quickly and with one giant leaping leap frog jumped clearly and cleanly back into the pool!

Safe at last, Alfredo swam over to the home he knew so well, laid down and quickly went to sleep!

That night, I realized that the season for frogs to live in the pool was coming to an end, for soon the chlorine would be added again to the water, and the leaves and other trash cleaned out and the humans, both great and small would jump in for a swim.  This was the part D and others looked forward to all year long, but I enjoy the singing of the frogs during the early springtime most of all!

That night, as I listened for the singing of the frogs, I noticed that night a new voice, singing just in the middle range between Allegro and Lentissimo, and just in rhythm with both, but in a syncopated style. I heard Alfredo, singing in his new voice which he had discovered when he screamed, but this was not a scream, but rather it was a mellow sound, and soothing to both the mind and the heart.  It reminded me of a singer I heard a long time ago, “Bing Crosby” was his name.  He had the most mellow, soothing sound in his voice.

I listened to the singing of the frogs, Allegro, Lentissimo, Fortissimo joining now with Alfredo, a new sound, a different sound, one never heard before but blending in so well.  I rested that night and found a peaceful sleep in the singing of the frogs.

B.B.

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April 19, 2015

“For all lovers of a good story…”