As much as I dig swamps, it's nice to be able to leave for drier climes. Last night, I had no such luck. Adding to the swampy nature of the night, I was serenaded with the twang of a green frog, accompanied by the basso notes of a bullfrog, freed from the diurnal tyranny of a great blue heron which had taken up residence in their pond, and feeling their batrachian wild oats.
Inspired in part by Thunder's comment on my previous post, as well as the triple-digit heat index.
Funny, why don't the right-wingers mention this run of really hot weather? They sure made a big deal about the snowstorms this winter (which, ironically, were fueled by increased water vapor in the air due to, you got it, global warming), but they're strangely reticent now.
I'm used to dealing with this sort of weather in August, not late June. Now sit tight, and listen keenly to a