Summer beckons

It has been duly noted by the sharp ears of Miss Ember and Sir S that summer is indeed stirring far too early. Frogs have taken up their bell-ringing, croaking calls beneath our paper-screened windows, cicadas have drummed out their first percussion and even now June insects wing the air. On our recent spring stroll, Sir S and I stumbled upon this froggy fellow. He seemed most unperturbed when Sir S plopped him on the page of the latest Maisie Dobbs' mystery.* He sat most patiently until I finished the last paragraph of the chapter, before hopping away via my purple-striped socks.

The same kind of vibrant green frog has been loitering on the lower stairs so that tenants and visitors to the rooms have to take due care not to splat the blighter. Of late have had fond reminiscences of my time as editorial assistant for Hollandeer & Clyde Publishers, when Miss Rosie and I spend a whole day writing captions for frog photographs ("the diminutive green tree frog likes to shower with a friend") and other inappropriate musings.

I rather like the way the frog wears a petal bonnet. A light breeze blew the blossom in the frog's direction, and once stuck to its head, the frog donned the blossom for a full 35 minutes. Impressive!

*Book and Bellamy-esque shot from the lens of Sir S.