One bright day in May, I was at my pollinator garden at the edge of the woods. There in the ground covered leaves was an American Toad. The toad adjusted to my being there and didn’t jump away. I filled a shallow plant saucer with water. An empty clay pot turned upside down, with a large stone placed on one edge, would allow the amphibian to enter as it pleased.
Nearby, in the shade of staghorn sumac, I sat in an aluminum chair and listened to the gentle wind chimes. The toad kept me company and climbed up a large boulder to take the sun. I felt that we were quite a team. The ritual continued for several days until the toad made its way somewhere else. I miss you, my little friend. Do you think of me?
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