Toad Strangler

I live in an area that experiences several tropical storms a summer. Of course, they vary in strength. Most of the time we are deluged with several inches of rain, rarely areas will flood.

Several years ago, I purchased my first house and was recuperating from surgery during a mild tropical storm. It had stalled, or become stationary causing constant rain for days. The last day of this storm the rains became quite heavy. We were receiving flood warnings for the city. My back yard had turned into a shallow pond. I had thoughts of building a boat. I began to watch the Weather Channel hoping a miracle would occur to make the rain stop.

I starting pacing. I went to the living room, kitchen, bedroom, check out the Weather Channel. Every time I peeked outside the living room window, I could see the water advancing, up to the street curb, half-way up the driveway. The story was the same from the kitchen window's view of the back yard. Slowly the water was inching up to the door steps of my house.

I panicked and ran around the house moving furniture to higher levels and to the garage moving concrete and electrical equipment out of harm's way. After that all I could do was to watch and wait.

So, I fixed some tea, got my smokes and sat on the front stoop, daring the water to invade my house. By this time, neighbors who were sent home from work were trying to reach their houses, most unable to drive through without a boat or big truck. One of my neighbors used his truck to ferry people to their houses. Kids were playing in the water having a good time as children will during times such as these, the adults yelling at each other across the divide of water.

The frogs were the only ones happy during this flood. The din of their singing was deafening. They were floating, swimming and croaking, slaves to currents of the flooding waters. My neighbor waded across the street to come and talk to me. I was watching the frogs swirl in the current flowing by my steps. He looked down at the frogs and said "Look! I thought frogs could swim, that one is riding on the other's back!" I looked up at him and he exclaimed, "Look! All of them are riding piggy back, can't they swim?" I said, "C that's not what they are doing." He became indignant saying, "What are they doing?" I scratched my head and squinched up my face and told him that they were mating. This 47 year old man turned purple and waded back across the street without another word.