I have a big beautiful pool in my backyard that I rarely use but this summer I have been striving to actually enjoy it. I prefer going out at twilight, floating wherever the jets move me while watching the pinkish-orange clouds become smokey gray, the sky change from dusky blue to gray to inky black and the stars magically begin to appear. The sounds of the water, cicadas, crickets and bull frogs create a symphony while I watch bats chase mosquitoes.
It is so very peaceful and relaxing just to let your mind wander as nature creates it's own light show and lullaby...until...a big old bull frog decided to use my floating chest as his lily pad!
There is nothing quite as discordant as big, bearded, burly, tattooed biker looking me floundering around, screaming like a damn girl as the frog and I both nearly drown. I swear they heard my screams and curse words two counties away.
The frog vanished as I sputtered out of the pool & downed my bourbon in a single gulp. As my heart rate slowed from triple digits, nature starts it's night song again, only this time it sounds like they are laughing their collective asses off at floundering fat boy frightened by a mere frog.
After a cigar and some contemplation, an evil grin crosses my face. I recall I have an old gig (a hunting device) in an out building and frog legs really do sound good for supper tomorrow night - revenge is a dish best served up battered and fried!