Scottsdale, AZ - March 2015
When I was a young boy, I lived on a cul-de-sac on the South Shore of Massachusetts. It was a quiet neighborhood, wooded and absent of traffic. At the end of our road was the North River, and across the street from our house was a large pond, surrounded by great white pine trees that would wave savagely in the wind. During the summer, when the nights were warm, the moon was bright, and the chorus of nocturnal creatures filled the air, my parents would take me on walks down the street, bucket in hand, to find frogs crossing from the high ridge on one side of the street to the pond on the other. We would talk and I would find frogs and either carry them across the road to avoid certain death by car (my night's true objective) or I would gather particular specimens worthy of further investigation and plop them in my bucket to examine when we got home. My favorite frogs to find were always grey tree frogs. Now, in Massachusetts, we have but two kinds of tree frog: The spring peeper and the grey tree frog. Spring peepers are rather hard to locate, as they are small and shy. But the grey tree frog, they are bigger and loud, so with some skill, one can find them with ease. I would locate them, their grey bodies bright against the dark asphalt street, and I would slip my index finger under them and lift, causing them to grip onto my hand and climb up my arm. I would marvel at their skill before placing them across the street or in the bucket to carry them home for the night. They were always a delight to find and remain among my favorite North American frog.
Tonight I'm in Arizona, and I took a walk down a darkened street with Miss Steph. The moon was full and the McDowell Mountains stood stark and black against the velvety sky. We admired the tall saguaros in the moonlight and talked as we walked, about growing up in Arizona, about my childhood night walks, about our future. We sipped on a beer, finishing it before heading back to the house. Laying down for bed, I've the same sensation I knew from long ago, of finding something worth further examination, worth bringing home, worth always being excited to see.
