Having discovered the Fragile Forktails (who must have emerged in the rain when I did not), I wandered round Lake Cheston to the cattails and grasses near the beach. Sure enough, two males and a female, sunning and eating and cavorting. I leaned in to snap, and I spoke to them as I usually do.
Then I wandered across the beach to the next set of cattails and grasses (sedges?). On hearing two distinct and distinctly small plops I looked in the water and lo and behold there it was -- a little toad (at least I think it was a toad). Again, I leaned and leaned in and apologized for disturbing it and again when it sank out sight.
By this time a woman and her two children had rounded the walk.
"May we know what you're photographing? We heard you talking over there," gesturing, "and over here."
I smiled. "Yes, I have a habit of doing that."
The children came close.
We made a tight circle so I could show them my camera screen. "I was taking pictures of the first damselflies I've seen this year -- Fragile Forktails. They're less than an inch in length."
There were suitable gasps and comments like "Beautiful."
Then I showed them the toad and where it had been.
The children were delighted as was the mother, who introduced herself (I know who she is and have met her husband -- both musicians). We chatted, as one does in a small place, and discovered we have mutual friends.
Then she said, "We're moving to Prague this summer, but we come here nearly every day, so we'll probably see you."
"Permanently?" I asked.
"Yes," she said."For me it's home, and it's about family and opportunity."
And with that we parted.
(I hope we do indeed meet again for another delightful conversation.)