It’s a good thing that I’m not too squeamish. That thought occurred to me the other night as a frog leaped onto my bare chest while a bat swooped behind me.
Every year I find myself chasing frogs away from my pool, usually on a damp and foggy night. When I went outside for a late swim, the frogs were especially loud. I saw one in the dim light and picked it up, only to find that there were two in my hand. They were, um, busy. I gently placed them over the fence.
I started swimming but still heard frog calls. I stood up and walked slowly toward the sound. The pool water was still enough to attract a bat. When I got close enough, the frog got startled and leaped toward the water but landed on my collarbone.
I plucked the frog off my chest and carried it out of the pool to place it over the fence. When I returned, I heard yet another frog. I dried off and grabbed my phone to take a picture of it before it hopped into the water. I put down the phone and used my skimmer net to catch it.