Lookout Mountain, Chattanooga

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

When it rains, it pours. It pours WHAT?!

I don my exercise clothes and walk to the gym just about every day.  I pull the bill of my baseball cap down low, thinking that no one will see what I look like if I can’t see them.  I’d rather throw on my cloak of invisibility, but it got lost in the dryer along with a sock.  Hiding behind a baseball cap is the next best thing, especially since there are no low-lying branches on the way.  The cap keeps the rain and the frogs off.

Yes, frogs.  It’s a fact that when it rains, it sometimes pours . . . frogs.  Some of my friends, my kids, and my husband can attest to it.

We were visiting Gulf Shores one May in the late eighties.  Four families returned to the same favorite spot, the Moonraker, year after year.  We loved spending time together at the beach just across the street; but when we tired of ocean water, we swam in the Moonraker’s swimming pool.

One afternoon, it rained like crazy.  We were in the pool when it started but quickly got out to seek cover.  As soon as the rain stopped, we returned—only to find little frogs everywhere, swimming their little hearts out, jumping in and amongst the chaise lounges.  We were amazed by the miraculous appearance of the little hopping devils.

Of course, we laughed that it couldn’t be real.  Years later, though, I looked up the phenomenon on the internet.  I found that it had rained frogs elsewhere.  Here’s a video to support my claim.  (Don’t dwell on the fate of these poor creatures.)


  1. I appreciate the gentleman's final comment - "Needless to say, they all croaked." : )

  2. It is rather perfect . . . but isn't he being a bit warty? :-)