“Dan??!! Wake up!! Wake up!! What’s that noise?” I sat up slowly as the noise from the outside seemed to be directly focused at our small two-bedroom apartment. I shook my husband frantically, knowing what a sound sleeper he is. My heart started racing and my mind searched through all my memories in order to identify that sound. It kept coming back to me with nothing. I couldn’t place that sound. Dan woke up eventually. He sat up and reached for me in the darkness.

“What’s the matter? What’s wrong? I’m here,” he said half asleep.

“That noise! Don’t you hear it?? Outside!?” I was amazed that the noise didn’t bother him.

“Where? What noise?” He listened carefully. “ Oh, you mean the frogs?”

“The frogs!?” I cried out “You mean to say all that noise outside our apartment are frogs?” I sat there on our bed listening to what sounded like a million frogs all sitting and croaking like a massive choir that sang it’s song without end. I was dumbfounded by it all.

I had just moved from California to Florida and had never heard anything like this before. I just sat there for several moments in the dark. I envisioned frogs of every shape and size hopping around our patio furniture, the lawn, maybe even the windows and walls outside. Movies like Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” came to mind as I imagined frogs everywhere, all trying to break into our homes. I was so afraid I didn’t want to get out of bed to look through the window.

“Yes, hon,” Dan laid back down and turned over to drift right back to sleep. “ just frogs.” Before falling asleep he muttered softly under his breath. “Welcome to Florida.”

His calm attitude gave me the impression that I shouldn’t worry. I forced myself to relax and lay back down. There was nothing to worry about. They are not going to break in. Man-eating frogs won’t attack us. This is not “The Birds” and all will be well in the morning. I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my hands. I laid there for what seemed like minutes as the constant ribbiting eventually lulled me to sleep.

The next morning I got up and looked outside. It was quiet. Aldoin, my cocker spaniel, and I poked our heads out the door. As native Californians and new to this strange land, we weren’t taking any chances. We heard stories about alligators and armadillos being everywhere in Florida. I kept Aldoin on his leash and took my fireplace poker with me. Thus armed, we went to investigate the grounds. This was going to be our home now and we needed to learn to live here. Our searches lead nowhere. We couldn’t find a single frog; not even a “ribbit” could be heard. The sun was shining brightly and damp hot air seemed to assure me that all was back to normal. We finished our walk all around the apartment complex. I was fascinated by the huge towering trees with Spanish moss hanging from the limbs like someone had casually thrown it there. “So this is Florida.” I said to myself.