The frogs are still happy about all the rain, and the chorus is singing quite loudly tonight. I don't know how long they'll stay happy, though, since there's no rain in the forecast after Sunday, and it is expected to warm up quite a bit late next week. A week from Saturday it's predicted to get up to 74 degrees. I'll be glad to have another day when I can have my windows open for a couple of hours, but the frog ponds could dry up pretty fast at such a temperature. That Saturday will be the last day of March, and April can get pretty hot around here. I might be missing winter before long. But not as much as the frogs will.
But I might as well go on dreaming of a long, mild spring, on my own behalf as well as that of the musical amphibians. If it doesn't happen I'll be disappointed, but at least I'll have had the pleasure of anticipation before my hopes are dashed and I sink into sweltering despair. It will be worse for the frogs, or course. All they have to look forward to with the coming of warm weather is a feast of insects hatching out, and after that, ruin. Poor frogs.