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Shouted secrets.
And now that spring-like weather is returning,
so is the sound of spring peepers.
Oh, the secrets of the ponds,
though all of them are not whispered, some are shouted.
Peepers are small, the size of the end of your thumb,
but their peeps are loud and large, like a riot.
They're primordial, from a time when all life was
wet and new and secret, hidden in the shadows.
But it's a tale of two worlds, one wet and one dry.
And how can we know their secrets,
when we do not even know our own.
"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every
human creature is constituted to be that
profound secret and mystery to every other,"
writes Charles Dickens in
A Tale of Two Cities.
Shouted secrets.
And now that spring-like weather is returning,
so is the sound of spring peepers.
Oh, the secrets of the ponds,
though all of them are not whispered, some are shouted.
Peepers are small, the size of the end of your thumb,
but their peeps are loud and large, like a riot.
They're primordial, from a time when all life was
wet and new and secret, hidden in the shadows.
But it's a tale of two worlds, one wet and one dry.
And how can we know their secrets,
when we do not even know our own.
"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every
human creature is constituted to be that
profound secret and mystery to every other,"
writes Charles Dickens in
A Tale of Two Cities.
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Thanks for posting this! I never knew they were so small or how they looked when they made their sound.
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