Monday, April 20, 2015


Every year I collect tadpoles in the spring.

I say they're for the kids when I'm scooping them out of the pond if anyone asks me. Because I'm a grown-up and grown-ups don't collect tadpoles having more important things to do like revisions, and laundry, and meal-planning (or is it just me?) but really the tadpoles in a plastic screw-top are for me because I love a good metamorphosis.

I peer at them and feel like Fern with Wilbur in Charlotte's Web. Appreciative. Humble.

It is so cool; year after year it doesn't get boring or old, as I watch them sidle along the sides of the jar like little fat buoys bumping against a ship's hull.

I feed them strips of kale and they grow legs. And there is something about saying the words "Let's release the froglets!" in a few weeks that makes me feel Queen of All I Survey.

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