The rain drips down the windowpane like fat snails, 
leaving a trail of sadness.
The rented cabin is small, rustic. Restless feet echo
on the wood floors.
The forecast is for three more days of rain. Spirits are 
lower than a soggy blanket.
A forlorn little face presses a button nose against the cold glass, 
hoping for a reprieve.

Rain taps monotonously on the roof, casting a 
shroud of gloom.
The restless lake waits coldly, indifferently. Hopeful plans are
dashed with each swollen drop. 
Swimsuits, floating toys and fishing gear languish in suitcases
and bags, unpacked. 

A tiny frog, uninvited, hops in through a torn screen.
An unlikely hero.
Discovery! Fascination replaces tedium. Busy fingers
touch, prod, cradle, explore.
Thin yellow skin glows with green specks like 
glittery mica embedded in smooth stone.

Excited feet imitate the valiant frog's long leaps
and dainty hops. 
Then gorgeous golden sunlight bursts through the thick gloom like a blessing,
bathing the world with warmth.
The rain graciously withdraws, leaving behind glittering raindrops, 
sparkling like lost diamonds.

The frog is forgotten by the eager little one, bounding into the
welcoming outdoors.
I gently return the frog to a damp, shiny clean leaf, his liquid
black eyes gazing as I whisper "thank you."