Going…

going…

going…

…one last peak and I’m gone…

Tree Frogs pick some risky places to hang out. This one was in plain sight and could easily be picked off by a clever bird.
However, there weren’t any birds about that I saw so his bigger risk might have been falling into the river.
From a different angle the frog looked like he had some more secure choices for his next leap.
This is the smallest Tree Frog I’ve ever seen, no bigger than my pinky fingernail. I’m calling him a juvenile, but have no idea how old he might be, or how he came to be on our patio.
Ted spotted him first, and thought it was the head of a juvenile Carolina Anole peaking up over the leaf.
There was a young Anole patrolling this Curcumin plant and the frog soon disappeared into the dense middle and I wondered if they were aware of each other.
I hear frogs croaking and splashing into the water ahead of me, but rarely see them around the swamp. This fellow caught my attention with a small croak, and then was perfectly still.
Sitting on a fallen Powdery Alligator-flag leaf, he blended into the wet leaves pretty well and it took me a minute to spot him.