As I stepped out the door, I was hit by the sun filtering through the clouds and a humidity that I was more accustomed to when living in the South. For a moment, the highway beside the trail cleared and in the brief quiet from road noise, I was surrounded by the soft croaking of an army of frogs. I was taken back to those sultry southern summer nights and the tree frogs that lived around the swimming pool. Each night I drifted of to sleep to the sound of Whippoorwills, Cicadas, and tree frogs while the sweet scent of honeysuckle drifted in through my open bedroom windows.
Just as quickly as it cleared, the highway traffic returned and the quiet moment of communing with the tree frogs ended.
