My friend, Steve, his son and I went to my sister's place in Indiana. We mainly went there at the beginning of the week to do some fishing. My sister has a pretty good sized pond where I do most of my fishing during the summer and fall seasons. I'd like to try my hand at doing a little ice fishing here this winter.
There's basically eight types of life you'll find living in and around the pond. That would be:
Large Mouth Bass
Toads and Frogs
Bloodsucking Ticks (lots of them) That's why all of our mutual friends call my sister's place The Tick Ranch. Because 99% of the time you're guaranteed to go home with a tick on you or the stuff you left with.
The lack of action gave us plenty of time to look around while we sat on the dock. Steve found what looked to be a the axle of a truck, which is surprising, since it would be extremely difficult to go down the steep hill to park decently next to the pond. This makes me think that a truck went off the field path and slid into the lake some years before my sister and brother-in-law bought the place and the surrounding acres of land. That wouldn't surprise me that much. Stranger things have happened at her place. A previous owner of the 100 year old farm house, barns and land had hung himself in one of the barns.
I found a frog (or toad) that wouldn't freaking move. Not even a blink of one of it's eyes.
I watched it off and on for 45 minutes and it would not move a tiny bit. I yelled, "Move!"
But it didn't budge or make a peep. It just sat there with it's eyes wide open.
In my younger, somewhat less compassionate years, I probably would have thrown a stick or rock at it. But I didn't. I just watched the Frog of Stone sit there. I was beginning to think it was a ceramic thing-a-ma-jiggy that my sister or niece put down by the lake for decoration.
Finally, one of my nieces came down by the lake. I hoped that she could solve the mystery. I asked her several questions about Mr. Stony Frog but she couldn't tell me if it was real or not. She said she didn't put it there.
A few minutes went by before I turned my back to talk to somebody. When I turned back around, the frog wasn't there. I looked at the water near the bank where he had sat and I could see his big frog peepers (eyes, you know) sitting just above the water. Then he winked. I shouted, "Look! He's real! There he is!" Everyone looked at him and that's when he swam off.
After several hours of unsuccessful fishing but lots of interesting conversation (no, not about the frog), we head back up to the house. After my sister, Steve, his son and I are talking for awhile, I notice a huge hornet's nest on a nearby tree branch. I make mention of it and my sister says she doesn't think there's anything in it. Her sense of humor almost equals mine in pure wickedness. Guess what happens next? Why... She snaps off the limb the nest is hanging off of and holds it over Steve's head, of course.
At least he's happy about it.
Here's another shot of it. No hornets ever came out of it. The sun was rapidly going down about this time.
It almost looks like a dead chicken from this angle and the lighting. I would likely discourage you from eating it. Well, actually, no, I wouldn't. I think seeing you eating it would give me a chuckle or two.