Jeepers peepers

Michele Owens has a neighbor who didn’t like the noise of her hens, nor of her neighbors’ lone frog, peeping away in their tiny garden pond. The discussion reminded me of a favorite
passage from E.B. White:

With so much disturbing our lives and clouding our future…it is hard to foretell what is going to happen…I know one thing that has happened: the willow by the brook has slipped into her yellow dress, lending, along with the faded pink of the snow fence, a spot of color to the vast gray-and-white world. I know too, that on some not too distant night, somewhere in pond or ditch or low place, a frog will awake, raise his voice in praise, and be joined by others. I will feel a whole lot better when I hear the frogs.

He wrote that about nuclear prolferation and the Cold War, if I recall, but it sure seems to reflect our world today, too.

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