By the Deschutes River, near Bend, Oregon

So good to hear the frogs from my bedroom, doing their thing in the dark all night, one unbroken confirmation that maybe everything's not wrong with the natural world, then going quiet by first light.

Frogs lack interest in light, light's too obvious, men do their dirtiest work in light during business hours. It's not that frogs aren't watching, aren't paying attention; they are, hence their disproportionately big eyes.  

Frogs aren't poets, they're backup singers in a rock-and-roll band that hopes to keep their international reunion tour on the road.