My Green Friend, Olive Oil

As evening thunder rumbled across the heavens last June, Olive Oil hopped out of her natal wetland and struck off cross country. In the morning I met her. She was perched on a stone beside my tiny garden pond. 

Olive (we’re on a first name basis now) had somehow navigated to my mini oasis in the heart of suburbia. 

Olive is a female green frog (Lithobates clamitans). Tympanums (eardrums) the width of her eyes signal her gender. Male green frogs have tympanums larger than their eyes.  

Olive and I began to spend quality time together. Frogs spend much of their days doing nothing, sitting sphinxlike for hours, studies in patience. Our affair is a contemplative one. 

I’ve only seen Olive catch two insects. One was a small ant. The second was a yellowjacket. The wasp landed beside Olive to sip water. Olive’s sticky tongue was the last thing it saw.

Yellowjacket stings hurt, and I expected Olive to flinch. But she revealed no sign of discomfort. She simply settled back into her sphinxlike posture, to do what she does best – wait. 

As our relationship grew, I started to dine with Olive. I’d feed myself cheese and crackers and I’d feed Olive worms. She gradually learned to stretch upwards and grab these squirming creatures from my fingers.

Frogs can learn, as Olive’s acceptance of a big hand hovering over her demonstrates. They can also discern subtleties. A friend says that frogs in her garden pond react with fear when she wears sunglasses, altering her appearance. 

Frogs actively seek prime feeding locations. Once I encountered a dead beaver. Plump green frogs perched on the carcass, scarfing blue bottle flies. 

With winter knocking, Olive now practises her stillness mastery on the bottom of my pond. In the near freezing water, she’ll absorb vital oxygen through her skin thanks to the turbulence of a small waterfall. I look forward to her soulful eyes breaking the surface in the spring and to the rekindling of our relationship.