8. I was told there would be glowing.



In a still pond under silver moonlight, a female tree frog swelled with developing eggs. She clung to slick stems, muscles poised, colors vivid against dark water. Instinct drew her to weave a subtle nest of aquatic plants. Released eggs soon yielded wriggling tadpoles that dappled the shallows with motion. Guarding early stages, she later watched limbs sprout as the young crossed from water life to land, embodying resilience and graceful transition.

Advertisement

About the Author

IndigoCoyote Words, curiosity, iterative improvement—that’s the engine behind my work.