One little green frog...

"That which we persist in doing becomes easier - not that the nature of the task has changed, but our ability to do has increased."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

hop, hop, hop.

listen.

hop, hop.

listen.

Completely in tune with its surroundings, one little green frog hops, then stops.

Hops, then stops.

Hops, then stops.

There is something different in the air.

In the way the ripples in the pond have shifted.

Other frogs have departed from the pond area and are hopping towards the trees, away from the water.

There is much quivering, as leaving the safety of the water for the unknown of the forest beyond is terrifying for this little frog.

The hot, moist air shifts and the pressure drops. It has gotten significantly cooler and a not so gentle breeze rushes past. The pond waters now resemble more of an ocean, with choppy waves rather than the calm ripples it usually contains.

More frogs emerge from the depths of the water and hop uphill towards the trees.

As the little frog observes all these things, the sky begins to darken and the ground begins to shake.

A low rumble rolls from beyond the pond and gets louder as it travels past the frog and flies through the trees.

This little frog looks longingly at the pond that has been its home for as long as he can remember. From a teeny tadpole, to a froglet, and just now a frog. He is still quite small as his legs just finished forming. Hopping is quite the endeavor for this frog, and he greatly prefers the swimming he was so accustomed to.

The frog's hopping capabilities were not so great, and now, to have to leave his home and hop farther than he had ever gone before?

What about food? The insects he easily captured had also disappeared throughout this odd transformation of the sky and surrounding area.

It was strange to behold all the changes. The only sounds the frog could hear were of the wind rustling through the leaves and the rumbling of the sky. All the music of the creatures is eerily absent, and all he can do is follow the lead of the older, wiser frogs and hop with them.

Hop, hop, hop.

What is THAT!??

Something falls and lands on the little frog's back. It is shivery cold and wet! The pond! The sky is lifting the pond right up and dumping it back on everything!

Terrified, the little frog hops forward towards the dark trees.

At first he feels only a drop or two, and then a loud crash of sound booms overhead and the pond dumps out right on top of that frog!

Poor frog! He pushes himself, hopping as fast as his little weak legs could carry him, until he hears the chorus of his friends beckoning him to join them in a cave under a spooky dead tree stump.

Motivated by the loud calls of the others, he gains momentum in his hopping and no longer pauses indecisively, but pushes through and makes it to safety.

Such a journey is unexpected, unwanted, and unprepared for; however this little frog makes it. Under the cover of the tree stump, he looks out and calls to other little frogs like himself to join him to safety.

For he knows all too well the apprehension and confusion of the situation and wants to encourage his fellow frogs to partake in the comfort of safety and security--at least, for this present time.