Tadpole Summer

It went so fast. Hayes, Olivia and I were so busy having fun, we didn't notice that summer was coming to an end. We had planned to have a little ceremony to let our tadpoles go and we didn't get around to it before the school bells started ringing again. So, here I am, all by myself, down at the dock, trying to coax the little black critters out of their safe container – the one we carefully landscaped with rocks and mud and slime from the shallows – so they wouldn't notice they were trapped and being watched. But they don't want to go. We did too good a job making them feel at home, I guess. I have dipped the container on its side and let the lake water rush in and mingle with the old water, trying to fool them. But the tadpoles have dug in to the bottom muck, totally resistant to the whole idea of swimming out into the unknown. I don't really blame them they can't see, like I, the fishes swimming by eager for a tadpole dinner. But, I have a little time, I won't rush them.

While I wait, I'm looking around and feeling not a little sad. The canoe is resting upside down on the dock. The paddle boat is lonely looking, patiently waiting for another adventure. It is still hot like summer but I know this summer is really just a memory now, albeit a collage of very good memories. We did so much this year – starting off with a June trip to the Fernbank Museum to the African exhibit which inspired our creative juices. We found a book on African culture and over the course of June and July built our own replica of a Kenyan village. Then, of course, we pretended to be explorers as we canoed in and out of the roots of mangroves in the coastal waters of West Africa (next cove) to find a place to eat our peanut butter sandwiches. We went swimming in the piranha infested waters (off the dock) and we sat in our hut ( the screen porch) under the lazy fan and read our book on Africa and our favorite book, Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein, sipping lemonade.

But the most fun we had was reading about tadpoles in the Pond Book by Karen Dawes that came with our tadpole tank and then, to our delight, actually finding them in the muddy edges of the lake. On our very first foraging trip we spotted a whole colony of little black wigglers. Of course we recognized them right away because we had pictures. Leaving our footprints in the sludge, we came away with five healthy specimens.

What do you feed tadpoles? We looked it up in the book. Then, everyday, we checked on them, anxiously awaiting signs of change. The Pond Book told us tadpoles turn into frogs in 2 to 16 weeks, depending on the type. Our collection must have been the long cooking kind, because we watched them faithfully for about a month and they had only begun to show signs of changing. Oh well, it didn't really matter – we found lots of other summer things to do, swimming at Bogen Park (oh, that slide!) and movies and nature walks and lots of ice cream eating. Mostly we just celebrated being together - two kids and a Meema.

I need to go cook dinner now, so I turn the tadpole tank up side down slowly. It is time, they have to go on with their lives, to grow up and be frogs. I won't forget this summer though. And I won't forget them, they weren't just ordinary tadpoles. These were our tadpoles. Next year when we hear the froggy chorus heralding in spring I bet Hayes, Olivia and I will be able to tell the new voices ,the ones we named Sam, Suzy, Long Tail, Lily Pad and ....Prince.

Hey, you just never know.