I have just come in from doing bit of hand watering. The rain from earlier in the week means the bulk of the garden is still damp enough not to need any water but the potted plants tend to dry out more quickly. The garden is full of the courting songs of frogs all proclaiming that they are the most virile, fertile, tuneful males in the city if not the state.
"Hello, ladies," they sing. "Come and make beautiful babies with me."
I have no idea how successful they are in promoting themselves but by the volume (close to deafening) there is plenty of choice - and since only six or seven years ago there was only one lone male something must be working. Long may they sing.
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