“No Frog. Wed. Marry. I am going to marry the spirit of the forest.”
The beginning of the forest looked like an open mouth to the man. Her tongue a long trail filled with hope and fear. He walked forwards, beginning his journey with the bravery of ending another. His thoughts run anew as the trees covered him with shade and the birds with music.
“Hello,” said a voice.
The man looked behind him, then around.
“Here,” said a lovely looking frog on a log. “What is your name?”
“My name is Godfrey, and you?”
“Frog,” replied the frog on a log.
“What do your friends call you?”
“Charming.”
“No,” said an impatient Godfrey. “You cant just be frog, otherwise when you are with your frog friends and your mum calls out frog, you would all go leaping in her direction. So what is your name?”
“That has never been an issue, I'm just frog.”
“Okay Frog, I wish you all the best on your journey.”
“What journey?”
“Whatever journey you are on.”
“I am not on a journey.”
The keen Godfrey just wanted this frog to shut up so he could keep on walking whilst keeping his own manners intact.
“Then, good luck on the journey that is no journey,” said Godfrey.
“I didn’t know we were supposed to have journeys, do you have one?” asked the Frog.
“I do, and that is why I must bid farewell.”
Godfrey started to walk when again Frog yelled out, “What is yours?”
He took an outbreath to calm himself and knew the quickest way forward whilst still being polite was to speak to Frog.
“I am going to find the spirit of the forest.”
“Wow, why?”
“I am going to wed her.”
“Wet her?”
“No Frog. Wed. Marry. I am going to marry the spirit of the forest.”
“Ribbit,” said the Frog. “Bless me,” he insisted.
“Bless you?”
“Thank you. I have never met a man who thinks he is worthy enough to marry the spirit of the forest.”
“Have you met many men?”
“You are the first.”
“Well, it was nice meeting you Frog.”
“Can I come?” asked Frog.
“Listen Frog. I have wasted enough time standing here talking to you. I am not going to waste anymore dragging you around and explaining everything.”
“You can explain everything?”
Godfrey had a slight flare up of pride and within his internal tantrum, decided to walk away. Frog leapt after him. Godfrey walked faster. The frog kept jumping. Falling behind. Huge giant leaps were made but soon he grew tired. Godfrey kept walking, then dropped his head, turned to see the panting frog, walked towards him, dropped his knee and put his hand out. Frog found new energy and jumped straight into Godfreys hand.
“So, who are you?” asked the Frog.
“I already told you,” replied Godfrey.
“What is it with you and names? A name is not who you are. I have heard stories of men but I thought they were fables, silliness, metaphors.”
“And what are these stories?”
“Well,” said Frog. “That you take pride in your divisions.”
Godfrey thought that maybe he wasn’t just a stupid little frog after all.
“That is true, and it is silly,” admitted Godfrey. “So, who are you? How does one answer that question?”
“I am Frog. I like to do what frogs do.”
“Well, I don’t like to do what humans do.”
“What do human do?”
“They grab on to life so tightly that is never breathes.”
“I tell you what they like to do,” said Frog.
“Be best friends with a Frog on the way to marry the spirit of the forest.”
Godfrey smiled, “Sure.”
To be continued…
