Last Monday evening, I heard the frogs singing in the woods for the first time this spring. It's such a thin, silvery, growing sort of sound-- the sound of the woods coming back to life. In honor of that event, here is one of my all-time favorite poems, by one of my all-time favorite poets.
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not have ventured forth alone
At dusk upon this unfrequented road.
I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will walk
Between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!