Crow V Frog

Its rainy season for real now! The rain thus far has been but a puny imitation of the thundering gallons of water unleashed from the sky the past few days. (Ironic given the current lack of water in the house.) The trek to school has become much more hazardous, and lunchtime much more interesting. We currently have a frog invasion, and Im talking proper frogs: big fat croaking bullfrogs which hop unconcernedly between the feet of shrieking children who try to kick or stomp them.

I was privileged enough to witness an epic battle of will and wits today. The children were all in class and I was on a break, watching the rain and counting the frogs. One particular frog was attempting in vain to leap a sheer brick wall. After a while I realised I wasn't the only one watching him: a huge, beady eyed crow was sidling closer and closer from an overhanging tree branch. The blissfully oblivious frog kept jumping and jumping as the crow edged nearer and nearer. Suddenly he hopped down from the tree, cornering the frog against the wall. Head cocked to one side, he examined the frog, sizing up his potential dinner.The frog froze, finally aware of his impending doom, and the crow leapt forward and pecked his leg. The frog scrambled and scrabbled but the crow got a hold on his leg and took off.

Thankfully for the frog, the crow hadn't taken into account the fact that the frog was almost as big as him. Dangling him by one spindly leg, he lost his grip and froggy got away. But the poor amphibian was by now too traumatised to do anything other than hyperventilate, and the crow struck again, this time managing a successful take off.
It was a pretty absurd image: the huge belly of the frog dangling by his impossibly long legs from the tiny beak of the crow. I was pretty impressed by the crow's persistence but devastated for the poor frog soaring higher and higher. The crow settled on a branch to begin his lunch-and then the dilemma struck him. He couldn't eat the frog while holding on to its leg, but to let go of his leg would mean dropping him. He sat there in silent frustration as the frog wriggled furiously, contemplating his options. Eventually he opened his beak-and the frog fell to the ground with an audible "plop." He sat stunned for a moment as I yelled "Get into the water!" much to the consternation of a passing child. The crow swooped in for a second chance and finally the frog took my advice. He soared into the air like a fat ballerina and disappeared beneath the murky water. I muttered a triumphant "Yesss!" and did a furtive fist pump. All was calm.