I draw flowers, not frogs, but after taking the shuttle, not the subway, to Swindler Cove today, I heard the bullfrogs croaking. I didn't expect to see them, but I looked anyway and there I saw one looking at me while he sat on a rock in the pond.
I should say he sort of looked at me. One eye was open and the other eye stayed shut and appeared a little rough. I'm not sure what's he's gone through, and he didn't say. In fact, he didn't say a word the entire time I spent with him, even though I heard the other frogs continue to call.
I worked faster than I normally do because I knew he might jump away at any moment. I don't know frogs, and it was a challenge to get his shape and color quickly while keeping my pencils from slipping through the cracks of the dock and falling into the pond.
He did eventually jump away, so fast, and I saw and heard him hunt flies in another part of the pond while I gathered up my pencils and hunted for some flowers in the shade.
It's not bad to spend a day with a bullfrog on a hot day in August. In fact, I can't think of anything better.
Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.