Almost forgot about the frogs. It has been dry, desert dry, in California for so long.

They are tiny creatures, like what we used to call “tree” frogs, but they live in the grass.

You can never imagine there would be so many.

Your presence disturbs the near ones for a bit, but you can hear the thousands, millions, in the distance as the rain patters my hat. First one, then another, nearby, then a grand crescendo…

It is finally raining in California. The frogs were waiting, waiting perhaps for the conditions that first allowed their ancestors–our ancestors–to venture on to land.

The frogs have learned to be patient, and so must we.