He jumped

WE were just drinking the last of our wine, feeling full of the chicken vol-au-vents we'd just eaten, when the Fox jumped.

"It moved!" he exclaimed in astonishment. The "it" turned out to be a leaf which in reality was a frog.

I twisted round in my seat to look at the creature. Sure enough there, on the crazy paving patio was a "leaf". And before long it leapt, its long legs propelling it quite a distance forward.

"I wonder where he came from," mused the Fox. I suggested from the shade between the bags in which the Fox is growing some potatoes. The frog hopped on.

"Now where is he off to?" wondered the Fox. The frog rounded the garage corner. I suggested the lily bed. That's always a good place for frogs. They've done a great job on reducing the number of slugs & snails there. You can usually find one or two balancing on the leaves.

But no, the frog reappeared. This time he jumped the steps, several inches deep, to the garage door. As he reached the top we heard the thud as the frog jumped onto the top step, head first into the metal garage door.

"That will give him a headache," we couldn't help thinking. We were still marvelling at the acrobatics required for such a small creature to jump such deep steps. Eventually the frog got moving again. He turned right.

"He must be off to the hostas (in pots on the shelf around the garage) or the triangle. They both attract a lot of slugs & snails." I commented.

At that the frog did an about turn and hopped back the other way. He continued past the steps, then leapt over the edge to the ground, a good foot down. We couldn't help thinking that was like jumping off an enormous precipice without a parachute. Still off he continued to hop, straight into the lily bed, there to disappear from our view.