The journey to Frog City was, to say the least, somewhat arduous.  I had never before been far from my pond.  As I moved towards my destination, I swear that I discovered muscles in my back legs of which I had no prior knowledge.  And they hurt.  Alot.  Even so, I had a reason for my travails and I had no intention of giving in to the discomfort.  Suddenly my life had regained its meaning. 

 

Ambrose would be avenged.

 

I suppose that in the story books my journey would have been a thoroughly exciting event, interrupted by bandits and needy travellers or by attractive boy-frogs in need of rescue.   Unfortunately, I cannot lay claim to such fairytale glories.  My journey was, by all accounts, very wet.  Even so,  as I travelled, I believe that I saw for the first time the beauties of autumn.  The golden leaves, the scent of wet grass.....for me these were new experiences.   I guess you could say that my loss had opened my eyes to the wonders of the world around me.  Ever present was a sense of emptiness, a feeling that all of these amazing sights, smells and sounds could have better been appreciated if shared with my love.  I can only compare this to a persistant itch underneath my skin.  No matter the wonders surrounding me, I could not assuage the underlying pain.

 

3 weeks after leaving the pond I arrived, a bedraggled and rather fragrant froggy, at the walls of Frog City.