I dreamt of frogs this morning...

In that sleep just before waking. I dreamt there had been a heavy rain, and the puddles outside my window had gotten pond-deep. When I looked outside, I saw (and heard) frogs croaking... little bright green frogs no bigger then the first joint of my thumb. They seemed to notice me then, and turned and looked through the window, and sang to me, it was very clear.

There was also a little salamander creature, too, with a long neck, who was opening his mouth and trilling at me like a toad ... (useless bit of nature trivia: toads have true vocal folds very much like ours, and the sounds they make are very much like our own singing) ...

anyway, at some point I must have gone out and waded in the pond with the frogs because the next scene I remember, I'm in the bathtub of my childhood home washing the pond mud off myself (I remember seeing the silt settle at the bottom of the tub, and being fascinated by its paterns), and I discover one of the tiny frogs is in the tub with me. He jumps out and starts pushing a round canister of something across the floor of the bathroom -- I don't know what the canister was suddenly doing there, it just was. I didn't bother to wonder about it in the dream -- but I was very impressed with his strength and his effort.

I take the frog into my palm -- I can feel his little wet toes on my skin, and the round, wet feeling of his belly as he breathed, and as I said little nothings to him (the way you do, when you talk to cute animals, his back changed colors into an intricate pattern of jewel-toned purples, blues and white...

Then he jumped out of my hand and went back to work pushing the canister.

Then I woke up.

I have no idea what it means, but I wanted to remember it. It was such a cheery dream.

I like frogs. :-)