Davka *heart* The Toads!

I just can't get enough of these little creatures. A group of us went late last night to listen to them and were so in love. I called everyone this morning and said, "the toad tour bus is leaving!" So, we all went again. The activity has waned considerably, but I spent hours today hanging out at the pond- watching how easily nature just chills: turtles floating slowly across the water with their little heads bobbing up and down, deep bull frog snorts and splashes, fish feasting on the new toad eggs, thousands of insects in one handful of wet leaves. The geese were backflipping to bathe and the ducks were floating in pairs. I am so happy outside away from people and the city.

Yesterday an amateur reptile and amphibian expert showed up and told me all about the toads. He has lived in my neighborhood since he was a boy and the cemetery pond is where he has always gone to get away "from the shit in the city." I told him if the cemetery didn't exist, I would have surely lost my mind in Pittsburgh. We talked about a lot and he reminded me of my boys back home- knowing every detail of the natural world around him. He had the keenest eyes ever, second only to my dad who can spot a deer hundreds of yards away in the woods while we are driving on the highway at seventy miles an hour. My dad never takes his eyes off the road, but somehow manages to spot them and he will just point and say, "deer" and I will squint to see until they appear as little patches of brown in the green. This guy found the translucent strings of beaded toad eggs where I would have never seen them in a million years. Actually, I have pretty keen eyes, too, but not like this. I didn't have my camera with me, so I am swiping these images from the web, but you have to see!



When he pulled them out of the water, the sun was shining through them and they looked like long strings of glistening rosary beads. There were millions of eggs in the water and he said only about five percent would actually survive to adulthood, but that would still be a ton.

We walked around together like two little kids for an hour digging in the mud and discussing life and everything around us. He was best friends with the young cop who got murdered in the shooting a few weeks ago. It was crazy to hear this because after that happened, I had been on my bike in the cemetery and unknowlingly, three of us rode right into the funeral service and were so struck with the sadness. My friend D wanted to stay and listen to the taps and I told her I just couldn't. It was so surreal. So sad. D told me all the terrible details that the news hadn't shared- one being that the young man's face had been blown off. I looked at all the mourners and said, "So many people over there had their lives destroyed this week." That night while falling asleep I had a very intense flash of a vision where I saw the funeral again, but this time I saw the young officer laying out in the grass naked and his mother was laying flowers onto his body, whatever was left of his face was behind a tree. It was so scary and sad that I shot up in bed and felt so terrified. I was under a lot of stress that week and I began crying because I was seriously afraid that I was developing some kind of schizophrenia. My therapist soothed me about it the next day and told me I am psychic and when that happens I need to light candles and burn sage and, most importantly, not be afraid.

To meet one of his best friends and to hear more details about his life was really difficult and transformative at once: he was a traditional Italian boy (our neighborhood is "little Italy") who's mom cooked dinner for him every night when he got back from work. He played hockey. He was a computer programmer and became a cop to make extra money to help his family- two years in and he is dead.

The man today in the cemetery really surprised me when he expressed sadness and compassion for the killer and his family. "I don't hate him," he said as we squatted next to each other staring out into the water, "He must have been really sick. And his mother, I can't imagine. Her life was destroyed too."

I guess I fell in love a little with this guy. We talked and he taught me things and he rode off on his motorcycle in his dirty chef uniform and I told him we'd be seeing each other a lot this summer since we shared a serenity place. He said he hoped so. I was really buzzing from the whole experience all day. Before he left he said, "Don't the toads look like little grumpy old men?" I laughed. "Yeah," I said, "they look like the little strong men in the old carnivals."

Before I left I looked down and there was a little male toad right by my feet in the mud. None of them were singing so I knelt down really close to him and imitated their song. Sure enough, his body stiffened into alert and his chin blew up into a bubble and he was singing in response to my singing! Then all the other toads started singing! I cannot describe to you the ecstacy this gave me. I did it over and over again, calling all my friends to leave our little love song on their voice mails.

Damn. The red fox that kissed me in the dreamtime wasn't kidding- nature loves me and wanted me back. It is absolutely the only thing that make sense to me and the only context in which I make sense.

My friend this morning was like, "Wow, I wish it was this easy for us. Next time I go out I am going to jump up on the bar and sing like that and watch the ladies come running." He then did his best impression of the toads and it nearly killed me. We laughed and then felt sad, like where did we go wrong as people? He asked, "Do we ever live this simply and beautifully?" I said I think we do. I said the fucking human couple is quite exquisite when it isn't fetishized and seen as taboo and people are pretty incredible when they aren't all fucked up on fear.

Yeah... tat tvam asi. We are that.

Here is another video. Thank you toads for the best couple of days I've had in a long time.