THE HISTORY OF TWO FROGS... THE LONG WAY HOME

The night had arrived and the town of Oaxaca was enveloped in shadows, behind the fields and in the middle of the thick darkness the shiny, round moon emerged.

The frogs initiated their trip cautiously, going along with fast jumps that denoted true anxiety. They jumped first through gardens full of flowers, then later through green orchards of Mexican Hawthorn and Medlar trees, finally they stopped. They had arrived at the lake of tranquil waters with aquatic irises with blue flowers.

"We have arrived again at our home" said the frogs. They heard the boisterous croaking of their fellow frogs, the hoarse trumpeting of the toads, the sharp flute of the crickets. The humming of the bees indicated to the little frogs that they in fact had not arrived at the lake and they needed to cast themselves in the water. They did so and swam what seem to be forever, at times caressed by aquatic moss or the branches which dragged along the surface of the water.

Their bulging eyes contemplated a muddy place covered with tall and thin reeds.

"We have arrived!" said the frogs, after a long way, we are home.

Marco Abarca, 2008