Two pairs of black eyes keep popping above the surface of the lotus pond, always peering east toward the big lake some 30 yards away, just off the property. Last year they were tadpoles; this year they are frogs who don’t seem able to decide whether to stay in the security of their five-foot abode or risk the long journey across the lawn to the relative freedom of life in the lake.
Some froggy instincts must be restraining them. I’ve seen them sitting by the edge of the pond, calculating. Thirty yards without water is a long way to go if you’re a creature not even three inches long who lives most of his (or her) life submerged. The weather has been damp, but the new grass is “mulched” with the autumn’s dry leaves. And whether a fox or a snake might make a snack from a traveling amphibian is anyone’s guess.
Then there are the risks of lake living to consider. Sure, the diet in the lake is more varied than the diet in the little man-made pond, but the opportunities to become part of someone else’s diet are also more varied. Turtles, cormorants and blue herons all might find like to get a taste of these two young frogs.
Perhaps being a young frog in a small pond is not so bad after all.
Perhaps home is what you make of it.
And maybe once the lotus stems push up from the water, this could be a pretty nice place to live, for the time being.
“For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling … so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” (2 Cor. 5: 1,2,4)