The Rites of Spring

The toads gather in the shallows along Lake Cheston's dam and sing and plop and mate, sending impressively gelid strings of eggs into spaghetti-like clumps, floating thickly above winter's truck tracks.  These are the rites of spring I celebrate with as much gusto as Stravinsky's music musters.

Behind us, others celebrate their own spring rite (should I say riot?) with beer and swimming, country music blaring from the pickup truck at full volume, polluting the lake and its surrounds with their own thoughtless amusement.


Toad or local on holiday in public place?  Give me an American Toad any day!