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Sunday, 30 July 2017

With frogs as big...

as a fivepenny piece...
we've cut the wild meadow.
To call it by such a name is a tad OTT.
Many and various grasses, peppered by the odd wild flowers, clover, oxeye daisies and poppies.

Before the lawn mower was woken from its summer slumber, I carefully raked the long grass looking for baby frogs. Sweet and perfectly formed they hopped away into the hedge.  Their journey only just begun.
The first year we had the pond they got caught on the untreated coping.  The dry stone would suck the moisture from their little bodies, leaving them to frizzle in the sun.  Seeing this I suggested we treat the stone with silicone.  This did the trick and they have managed to conquer the first hurdle on their perilous journey.  How they survive is a miracle.  Our visiting hedgehog supplements his cat food and mealworm nightly supper with a tasty morsel of fresh meat, of that I am sure.

Next time I see my home grown amphibian chums they may be the size of a florin or even
half a crown...

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