I woke up at seven this morning to rain pouring on the skylight over my bed. It’s the first time I can remember awakening to such a hard rain all summer, and given our record heat and dryness this year the sight made me happy instead of glum as grey skies usually do. I got out of bed and went outside to drag all my potted plants into the deluge. As I was coming back in, I glanced toward the nice little pond that had formed in my crawl space well and saw my old friend Toad.

Toad had been living in the doorway to the crawlspace for quite a while, but then disappeared around the time of the black snake incident. I figured Toad was a casualty of close quarters, though this particular toad is quite large—about the size of the fingerless part of my not insubstantial hands. He’s also a striking black, exactly the color of oxidized silver.

I’m glad to see Toad back. I love the way he sits like an oracle in the doorway, all quiet and wise.