However, back there at those beautiful waterfalls surrounded by oodles of rocks and plants, there are two contingents at war.
Back in the spring, there was a small frog.
We saw him, and we heard him. Along with the relaxing sounds of the falling water, his small croak was nice to hear from time to time.
Then all of a sudden, the croaking was gone.
It wasn't long after we noticed the absence of the croaking that we found this guy had made himself at home among our plants and rocks.
No wonder there was no frog croaking.
Methinks the frog was dinner.
Son Caleb was called in to redirect/relocate/repurpose/remove the snake, as I don't like snakes, and I do like frogs.
Said snake is now gone.
However, mid-August we found a shed snakeskin. And get this, it was much larger than the original snake we had
It wasn't too long until we saw that new snake, making himself cozy among our plants and rocks.
I still detest snakes, and I don't want him there.
One day, after spending a bit of time out back there, my husband comes in and tells me he thoroughly jabbed it with his shovel, and that it slithered down under the rocks and "most likely won't make any further trouble."
Well what does that mean? Is it dead or not?
I don't know, but here's the good news. We have another frog, and this one's LARGE. Perhaps this large frog will be capable of defending his homestead. I certainly hope so. (We have light netting over the waterfalls during the leaf dropping season, so the pumping system won't become clogged.)
And he can croak all he wants.
As long as I hear that croaking, I know what else is NOT out there.