it's for the frogs

I know we're very lucky to have a pool at our place.  It's a 'country' pool, though, and plainer and humbler than its sparkling chlorine-redolent city cousins.  This is the time of year when we wage a losing battle against the leaves,  and it becomes time to close it up for the season.

For some reason, I was in charge of its upkeep this rainy summer, and I can't say I was particularly brilliant at it.  I don't think trying to wrestle it away from mysterious cloudy states with various strange chemicals and growing championship amounts of algae would qualify me as a decent pool caretaker.  I have, however, become an expert at rescuing frogs and toads, and the odd rodent (some were beyond rescue).  And hey, did you know that teeny baby field mice can swim?  well they can.

There have been summers where you would have been able to find us swimming and frolicking at all times of the day.  But in this summer of rain (and algae) it was mostly for the frogs.