I’m positive most garden owners will agree with me, that with a garden comes a whole army of inhabitants, the ones that fly, leap, slither, slide, sting, bite, hop, buzz, hiss, sing, croak …….

I am privy to all of the above, and yes, you might ask me if I am ever afraid of any one of them? Heck, yes! Not all of them, just a few. We have had monitor lizards, snakes, frogs, millipedes, centipedes, bees, butterflies, birds, grasshoppers, caterpillars, wasps, mosquitoes, and ants, to name a few.

Aside from the larger creepy crawlers, there is one that I am particularly wary of, and that, my friends, is the leaping frog. He hides beautifully camouflaged between the leaves, under the petals, behind a picture frame, on the grill, and on the sliding glass door. The only reason I prefer to avoid this bad guy is, that he has a habit of leaping right at me. I know he doesn’t mean to scare me, but that’s exactly what I feel-sheer fear! Probably it could be because he catches me off guard, he is slimy, clingy, and ……..I have to stop here because I am feeling sick already!

During the monsoon season, these guys are prevalent in all the cool places. I have to be super careful not to disturb or startle them. Some of them congregate and hide in crevices in the pond and make their presence heard especially at night, when they decide to go vocal and break the sound barrier! Either they are trying to compete with one another, or it’s the males trying their best to woo the females, resulting in a cacophony of chaotic vocals in a concert!

Now let me introduce this guy to you. He made his presence felt a few months ago, when I happened to see him jump from one plant to another. He was whitish and had really long hind legs which propelled him to take really long leaps.

Of course, I was afraid he might land on me, so I would carefully water the plants without disturbing him. This went on for a while, and then one day I saw him perched behind a porcelain wall ornament, peeping through his big, googly eyes at the outside world. Sometimes he looked like he was asleep. I decided to call him Hermit,because that was who he is, all by himself, a loner.

My first instinct was to shoo him away by directing the hose pipe on him, but I squashed the idea, knowing full well that, when in panic mode, he might just leap straight at me! So I decided to do the humane thing, the choice of “live and let live”.

I looked at him and said,”I’m not going to hurt you. You leave me alone, and I will leave you alone. You can stay where you are. I will not disturb you”.

From hence worth began a daily conversation with my frog prince! I would step out onto the patio, and look at him, (I can just about see his bulging eyeballs over the framework, which would either be closed in slumber or wide open in alert mode). I would say,”I’m not going to hurt you. I will just go about watering the plants, and I will be out of your way.”

This one-sided conversation went on for some weeks, and I began to feel less afraid. He would simply watch me while I watered the plants, and I made sure I didn’t wet him with the hose.

One morning, I was surprised to see him missing from his usual perch. Dismissing it, thinking he had gone hunting for food, I went about my gardening. The next day, the same thing-he was missing! On the third day, I started to feel a little worried. At first it was with a tad scary feeling, imagining he might be hiding behind the leaves, or cleverly camouflaged somewhere, but no, he was not to be seen anywhere!

Surprisingly, I found myself worrying about him! Where could he be, is he hurt, has he been attacked, is he alive? I couldn’t believe I was actually asking these questions, that I was missing him!! And yes, you guessed it, I am missing this fella!

It is day 7, and he is still not back! Where can he be? Is he safe somewhere, or has he fallen prey to a predator? I wished him well in silence. He had every right to be in my garden like any other. It is his natural habitat and I should learn to accept this and go about my work respecting his presence.

The truth remains that every morning it has become a habit to first look for him and then go about my work. I am beginning to miss him in a rather strange way! Who knows, maybe one day he might just pop in to make an appearance, and I would look at him and say,”Welcome back, Hermit, where have you been all these days?”

‘Stay safe, Hermit’, – and life goes on, the way it was always meant to be. Peace and out.