Dryophytes Versicolor Sunning on Rocker

Among the many wild wonders that enrich our Rosslyn existence, the charismatic critters tend to steal the spotlight. The bobcats and coyotes, bald eagles and snakes grab attention on the website and social channels when I’m fortunate to document a sighting. But today I turn to a more understated neighbor, the Gray Treefrog (Dryophytes versicolor). My morning encounter inspires an overdue followup to my August 15, 2024 gray treefrog haiku.

Gray Treefrog, Haiku

Camouflaged climber
a mottled amphibian
sticky, grippy toes

I still like it. Tidy. Accurate. Approachable like the gray treefrog I discovered this morning sitting on the northernmost rocking chair on the icehouse’s east deck. I followed up that haiku one year ago with an acknowledgement that further lyric meditation was warranted. Now’s my chance.

Another poem, longer, about a gray treefrog might highlight the ability to blend with bark or to chirp and trill at night. And the eyes… deserve a verse at least! But I’ll save that experiment until I’ve received confirmation that we are, in fact, witnessing gray treefrogs. (Source: Gray Treefrog?)

Time to experiment a little further. Maybe ask the current Dryophytes versicolor visitor for input. Or at least a trial read-through.

Gray treefrogs offer a master class in camouflage.

[…]

Quieter now as mating season retreats, and having perfected the art of concealment over many months, gray treefrogs hide in plain sight, often without being detected.

This treefrog that has been hanging around all summer was on one of the icehouse deck rockers. Changed his color to blend in with the chair. It was bright green a month ago. — Glen Gehrkens

Contrast Glen’s photo with the image I included earlier in my “Times of Transition” update.

Progress! It’s good to see the gray treefrogs (perhaps the same one?) graduating toward far more attuned camo-mastery. Perhaps there’s a lesson for us to learn here… (Source: Camouflage)

That was then. This is now.

Once again our gray treefrog appears to have overlooked the importance of camouflage.

Time to explore the poem first conceived a year ago with the benefit of a fresh encounter.

Treefrog Sunning on Rocker

I stoop, stalling, measuring 
silence against silence and
patience against patience with
a gray treefrog, green and hunched
on the seat of a rocker,
nose to shade and derrière
to sunrise, morning, and me.

His mint green skin, much mottled, 
dimpled, and warty as bark,
is incomplete camouflage 
for the rocker's tan wood grain,
yet I witness no blending
of hue, shadow, pattern,
no stealthy evanescing.
 
He is poised perseverance
unflinching, unretreating.
His unblinking gaze suggests
a patience I cannot match. 
Am I contemplating him?
Is he contemplating me?
Whose wonder belongs to whom?

Air is cooler and drier
this morning, lake breeze building,
gentling the rocking chair
into a subdued swaying.
Leaning toward August then
leaning toward September,
we rock, he and I, waiting.

I’m not altogether certain this is the poem I envisioned last August. Actually, I’m almost certain that it’s not what I first contemplated composing, but this blurring between the narrator and the subject appeals to me. This is especially true as I throw myself fully into an epistolary discourse with Rosslyn.

In closing, let’s revisit a few additional gray treefrog images from previous posts.