Wood Frogs and Runes

Above: Bird’s eye view of wood frogs’ eggs in the rain garden

It was the jolt of bright green that pulled me out to the rain garden to investigate what turned out to be frogs’ eggs. I hadn’t heard the wood frogs this year, no doubt because the ice and snow, which don’t deter the frogs, are too much for me. I’ve kept the windows closed and the sound muffled. But clearly the frogs have been busy. In the years when I have heard them, they sound like a bunch of old geezers arguing about whatever old geezers argue about.

Most mornings now, I pull a rune stone out of the bag to give myself a prompt for the day. Today’s rune is Mann, the individual, the human being, the Self. In the reference book I use, Mann is associated with water and mutability, so right away I am thinking about the frogs, and what kinds of changes we want to see in our lives — because there will be changes. The frogs’ eggs will hatch and old men will croak their quarrelsome sounds, and this will be followed by the singsong of peepers and the broken banjo string twangs of the green frogs.. Humans — some of them — will continue to argue about territory and possessions, while others will take a broader view and see the earth not as a possession, but as our pond where everyone’s well-being depends on abundant clean water and a healthy environment.

Wood frogs live in the woods and lay their eggs in vernal pools, which is good because my rain garden is ephemeral, full of water now but sometimes completely dry by midsummer. The bright green color of the eggs comes from symbiotic algae that enhance the oxygen supply to the developing embryos. And green is suddenly so noticeable this time of year, that I am once again excited about using it in my paintings.