Mother Frog Tails: THE STORY
Below, find the story behind the comic as Mother Frog, who lives at Rivendale of Rutland City, awakens to find catastrophe and crises all around her brought on by the humanoids (nearly humans) who are polluting and destroying the environment even in the midst of climate change. Mother Frog now has a voice. She can impart her wisdom on the woodland animals that also call Rutland City their home. She also whispers her words on the wind. Like-minded humans can hear her call. They realize that things need fixing. They know that it's not too late to turn this climate crisis around, protect themselves, and save the animals we share our city with. Each edition of Mother Frog Tails Comic will have an accompanying story chapter.
Besides enjoying the comic strip, we hope you'll fall in love with Mother Frog, Mr. Fox, Little Turtle, Ma Doe, and the other characters of this local Rutland story.
Chapter One, Part One: "Wake Up, Mother Frog!"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Part One
On a beautiful autumn day in the City of Rutland, a unique artistic bench was installed at Rivendale, a haven for animals and humans located at 68 Lincoln Avenue in the historic northwest neighborhood. It was a peaceful day with squirrels collecting their winter stores, birds bathing in rain puddles, and a wily old fox taking his day-time slumber. Humans were active, as usual, going about their daily routines – most were oblivious to the wildlife all around them. What the humans couldn’t have known is that the colorfully painted bench had secret magical powers.
Nearby, sits Mother Frog, an intricately carved tree monument that rose like a phoenix at the hands of Chester, VT’s great wood sculptor Barry Pinski during the 2020 COVID pandemic. Mother Frog, a bit darkened now due to city living, keeps watch over the river-runs-through-it property, solid and lifeless. That is, until that evening.
When no one in particular was watching, life was bestowed upon that gallant creation. Gifts of knowledge & wisdom, speech & language were now in her grasp; and with these gifts, she gained the ability to communicate with all of the habitat’s native woodland creatures as well as the owners of Rivendale. Her impassioned voice can now be heard in the wind rustling through Rutland’s stately trees.
She realizes that many things are broken in our world. She knows that we humans have lost sight of nature and the creatures we share our home with. We’ve forgotten how we impact the animals that live amongst us in our urban neighborhoods, and our ecosystem is in jeopardy as a result.
Her message to the woodland critters is clear: “Come to Rivendale,” she pleads, “Come to this safe haven within this city. There is no poison on this lawn; the collected rainwater is clean. Find your food here. Make your homes here. You’ll be safe here.”
In her words are messages to her human neighbors as well, and myriad questions are evoked. When did we forget how to share our land and our precious resources with the creatures that also live here? Why do we poison our drinking water and our lawns? When did we stop caring about the trash that litters our streets and flows into our rivers? Why can’t Rutland be full of “Rivendales”?
The answers to these questions are complex, but the good news is that it’s not too late. We aren’t beyond the point of no return. The City of Rutland can become a mecca for creative, compassionate humans who share this beautiful habitat with the countless woodland creatures. Mother Frog will use her counsel to help us along the right path. It’s imperative that we listen.
Together, we can transform our Rutland neighborhoods and make them safe and welcoming to all like-minded humans and the animals.
Chapter One, Part Two: "Listen Up!"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Part Two
So far in this story, Mother Frog from Rivendale of Rutland City has a muse who channels through her brought about by the otherworldly ChafeeArt bench. Mother Frog has come alive, can see, and communicates by whispering on the wind.
As we left her, her cry was being carried by the wind to the woodland animals that live around Rutland City to come to the safe haven of Rivendale. They heard her and have come.
Mother Frog last said, “Wake Up!”, clear as the ten-of-nine alarm sounding its piercing tone morning and night in this City. We followed her advice.
“Listen up”, she says again this time.
We listened. How could we not?
We listened to lawn mowers, outdoor power tools, dogs barking, fireworks, gunfire, trains moving on clackety tracks tooting away, and motorcycles roaring; Airplanes taking off and landing, and Rte. 7 up the hill with loud truck traffic and cars often made louder on purpose for their own devices. We listened, even if we didn’t want to.
“Why do people need to make so much noise?” Mother Frog wants us to imagine what those noxious noises do to the local creatures trying to make their homes here amongst us. We have taken over their woodlands and most often replaced them with poisoned landscape all around, but they still live here with us.
Listen. Do you hear the heavy dump-like trucks running over the potholes? You know, the ones that never got filled this year. The holes fill up with rainwater, and when the freeze comes, they expand; the cracks get bigger with each storm that blows through.
Sometimes, it is really noisy in Rutland City. Sometimes, it is really poisonous noise harmful to our being.
We as Humans have our share of chronic illnesses from a variety of environmental culprits, but by adding to the deadly pollution we’ve brought our wildlife friends - like frogs and songbirds – to face certain extinction. We need to share our habitat with the creatures that still remain who are being stressed by our neglect of their existence. So, Mother Frog is pleading for our help (even if we can’t help ourselves being terribly addicted to fossil fuels - the main contributor to our own demise).
Mother Frog says, “Imagine.” Imagine what these noxious noises do to the creatures like herself that are trying to make their homes here in Rutland on former woodlands we’ve replaced with poisoned grass, chemicals, and landscaping…but that is another story to be told.
Let’s go back to the beginning, that ten-of-nine alarm sounding morning and night throughout the region. In the City, the shrill is ear piercing and you nearly jump out of your skin with its suddenness if you happen to be outside or anywhere near that noise pollution.
Mother Frog says, “Listen”. We have to figure out the rest.
Can you Imagine?
To Be Continued…
Chapter One, Part Three: "What's a Mother To Do?"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Part Three
As we last left her, Mother Frog had shared with her woodland friends that if they are to survive this climate crisis, they must again start communicating with the local humanoids who live around them.
Skepticism arose from those who heeded her call.
“The humanoids don’t respect us, so they are not able to hear us,” says the local daddy fox who left his family back in their den hidden in area woodlands (where many know their whereabouts but refuse to disclose as fox hunting is still legal in Vermont.)
“They have taken away our woodlands, poisoned our pathways and polluted our streams with phosphorus-laced toxic runoff”, says Mother Doe.
“Tell me about it!” says Mother Frog, “I don’t even drink the stuff, I absorb that so-called ‘wet weather overflow’ through my skin, and I can’t even talk about the loss of my baby pollywogs with these so called ‘authorized discharges’ that have already destroyed the native fish population.”
“The humanoids’ sewer system was only designed for 100-year storms,” adds Mr. Otter.
Little turtle speaks up, “Mother Frog, the humanoids are poisoning themselves, too, by adding neurotoxic contaminants to their own drinking water. What’s a turtle to do?”
“What’s a mother to do?!?, says Mother Frog.
(Since 2015, Vermonters for a Clean Environment has tallied 482 authorized discharges of wet weather combined sewer overflows into the Otter Creek from Rutland not even including the authorized discharges into East Creek.)
Chapter Two: Part One: "The Raven Visits"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Two, Part One
On a recent morning, a quite large common raven was seen from the porch sitting atop Rivendale’s deadwood carving of Mother Frog eyeing two young squirrel kits chasing each other about the frozen snow-covered landscape. Seeing the world’s biggest corvid predator for the first time in this area, they both run off in fear. “Let’s go get Papa,” says one as they skitter back toward the now leafless maple tree that holds their nest high up in its branches.
Somehow sensing his kits were in danger, Papa Squirrel comes quickly down out of his family’s drey and glares at the raven square in the eye. “What brings you back here, Ol’ Randy?” he asks, recognizing the stranger.
“I heard her call on the east wind and came straight away, but where is she?” the great bird questions.
“She's frozen,” responds Papa squirrel, “in her winter hibernation. The call went out last fall before the leaves fell. You know...She wants us to start talking to the humanoids again. She thinks by connecting with them we can save ourselves and them, too. Say, where have you been, and why did you leave Rutland City?”
“There was nothing left to keep me here,” Randy Raven states, “Here they are still cutting the tall trees down one by one. Come spring, the humanoids will be planting those little pink flags all over the place when they should really be big red warning flags to show they are poisoning us and themselves.”
Papa squirrel listens intently, as does Raze, the blue-jay perched nearby thinking he is hidden from the raven.
“You tell Mother Frog, ‘Give it up. Forget talking to humanoids’,” Randy declares emphatically, “Humanoids are completely oblivious they are poisoning us. They even throw their cigarette butts on the ground. They litter, and it’s disgusting. Get everybody out while you can. Leave and go east into the forests.”
“Humanoids are mostly deaf because it suits them” says Razz, the blue jay who now shows himself, so he can add his agitation to their conversation.
“I say get out while you can,” Randy repeats. “We ravens did. You rarely see any of us anymore. Target practice, you know. We are outta’ here! Save yourselves while you still can!”
And with a flapping of his broad spanned wings, he soars into the sky and is gone almost as fast as he appeared, leaving Papa squirrel and his two little squirrels contemplating the raven’s stark words.
Chapter Two: Part Two: "Razz Picks a Side"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Two, Part Two
Now the animals of Rutland City who answered Mother Frog’s call have a decision to make. She and some of the other woodland creatures are hibernating for the winter – whether it be under water or under the garden debris left intentionally by the enlightened homeowners who understand and enjoy that their urban homesteads are a magnet for the wildlife of Rutland City.
Her message was clear. “Speak to the humanoids again. Connect with them. In order to survive, we MUST do this.”
Randy Raven has a different message. He suggests fleeing the city entirely and going east to the Green Mountains which, in his opinion, will offer the animals a greater chance of survival. He knows that woodland creatures are rarely appreciated and often poisoned by city living, even as they cross picture-perfect lawns with not a dandelion to be seen as they have been poisoned with Roundup to keep the local forest, fauna, and native species at bay.
Who will the animals at Rivendale listen to?
After the raven’s swift departure, Razz the blue jay breaks the silence. He has something to say and can’t stay quiet any longer.
“Listen carefully,” says Razz, who is known to the other animals as being a bully, “I may be beautiful in color, but my disposition is less than stellar, I must admit.”
The squirrel family grants him their full attention as he continues, “We are all still here at Rivendale because it suits us. There is clean water and food galore. Just look at the elderberry, blueberries, and black raspberries willingly shared. There are black walnuts, apples, and a million dandelions along with much, much more. The humanoids don’t bother us here. The porch-sitting grandma doesn’t bother us one bit either.”
“Is her name MaBudda?” one of the squirrel kits interrupts.
“Yes, that’s her name – the one who makes it safe to live here,” Razz responds, “She thinks that woodland rain gardens should replace the poisoned grass in Rutland City making it safer for us and them.”
“She loves to watch our antics as we scamper and play around Rivendale,” the other squirrel kit says.
“She’s very wise, too,” Razz adds, “She can teach the humanoids all about harvesting the rain and watering their gardens with it to slow down the degradation of the water we all drink.”
“But Randy Raven may be right,” Papa Squirrel interjects, “Rivendale is only one safe haven in an entire city full of humanoids who don’t care about us. Maybe we should leave while we can.”
“And leave our brothers and sisters behind to die?” Razz contends. “No! There are more like MaBudda in Rutland City who will teach the humanoids a better way and more of us like Mother Frog who will start talking to them again.”
Papa Squirrel thinks for a moment and then his question is left lingering in the air…“But, is it already too late?”
Chapter Two: Part Three: "MaBudda"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Two, Part Three
When it comes to woodland rain gardens, MaBudda (the grandma in charge of the Rivendale homestead) is a visionary. Even though she’s human, she could hear Mother Frog’s whispers on the wind. She listened to her wisdom and now channels Mother Frog into this Frog Blog. “No, Papa Squirrel, it’s not too late,” she thinks compassionately as she observes the animals from her front porch.
Spring is in the air. The snow is melting into one sloppy mess when the sun shines, and the streets are glazed with black ice each night. Sugaring season will soon return along with mud season. Spring rain will fall. Lots of rain. It’s the perfect time for humans to watch where water gathers and puddles on their homesteads. It’s the time to pay attention to where the city storm drains can overflow onto lawns or if they drain properly to the water treatment plant. MaBudda knows that city residents can harvest some of the rain water from spring storms for their own use and enjoyment.
She has a rain barrel harvesting system set up right at Rivendale of Rutland City. The collected rain water provides safe, clean water for the lawn, flowers, fruit and vegetables. And it’s partly this natural water, purified through the Water Cycle, that brings the woodland animals to Rivendale.
Mother Frog knew it from the moment the magical Chaffee Art bench brought her life.
Flashback: “Come to Rivendale,” she pled, “Come to this safe haven within this city. There is no poison on this lawn; the collected rainwater is clean. Find your food here. Make your homes here. You’ll be safe here.”
MaBudda knows that this water can be used to fill the birdfeeders and water the gardens. The woodland animals are able to thrive on toxin-free water.
But Rivendale is only one property in Rutland City. Why can’t Rutland be full of ‘Rivendales’? “It can be,” muses MaBudda, as she sits on her porch sketching schematics for rain water harvesting systems.
MaBudda believes that Rutland taxpayers have a choice and an opportunity, if they’d only stop and listen to what the animals are trying to tell them. The storm drains can overflow onto their homesteads or overwhelm the treatment plant requiring untreated discharge to be released into the Otter Creek and East Creek, or they can use simple equipment to collect some of the rain on their property. Doing so saves money because it can be used for garden watering.
“Get rid of the poisonous grass that is so costly to maintain by restoring the natural woodlands in anyway you can. Make room for the animals to survive. As you do this, you will come to understand that by saving them you help save us, too,” MaBudda speaks aloud, as the squirrel family and Razz the blue jay look on from a nearby tree.
“We can do this,” she intones, “one yard or urban homestead at a time.”
Or, you can take off and run away into the woods like Randy Raven or remain deaf like so many humanoids.
Which do you choose?
Chapter Three: Part One: "Signs of Spring"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Three, Part One
“Wear your boots outside,” calls MaBudda to her grandsons as they run out the door and down the front-porch steps, “Spring has sprung.” The ground outside is squishy from the winter runoff that comes down the hill from Route 7.
Rivendale is one of many homes that sits at the bottom of that hill. The drainage from winter snowmelt and early spring rainstorms flows right down that hill and into many basements in Rutland City.
Basement flooding is in full swing as is mud season. One of the worst in years.
There are signs of life emerging all over Rutland City and especially at Rivendale.
The skunks are wandering about again, scaring people and eating up the cat food that humanoids forget to bring in at night. The robins are back on the ground plucking up worms from the wet, soggy earth. The cardinals and blue jays never left for the winter and are still well-established in their roosts. Bird migrations can be seen daily across the western sunset. Flocks of ravens (corvids) rest in the tall evergreens in the evening as they make their way elsewhere following Randy Raven’s warning rather than Mother Frog’s wisdom. Cranky Randy is nowhere to be seen.
At Rivendale, the back garden pathway remains underwater and, therefore, off limits as trampling the pathways to mud erodes good soil away, making it gone forever.
(Some say there is a hidden river that runs underground through downtown Rutland City, buried when the shopkeepers-of-old moved their businesses downtown to be closer to the mighty railroad that brought the entire region economic prosperity that we seek, again, today. Downtown flooding has been growing more problematic as rainstorms intensify in this climate crisis.)
Signs of spring are everywhere.
Mother Frog will return soon. What will she find when she awakens? Have the woodland critters who heard her call last fall stuck around? Have they started talking to people again like she instructed?
“Don’t touch that!” Papa Squirrel calls to his kits when he sees them playing around what looks like humanoid plastic litter.
“We need you Mother Frog,” he says with a sigh.
Chapter Three: Part Two: "The Cleanup Begins"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Three, Part Two
Mud season is a mess – not only because of the soft, soggy earth but due to months of litter and dog feces left behind by thoughtless humanoids. Even now, untrained dogs are pulling their owners by Rivendale, barking as they go. Dog owners who mostly carry little blue or green bags with them, if they even plan to clean up their dog’s messes.
The critters coming out of their winter hibernation are not like our dogs and cats who rely on us as their caregivers. To those humanoids who come to expect that some mother will come and clean up after their pets, Mother Frog – with worry for her offspring – begs you to please not put your dog feces in plastic bags only to discard them surreptitiously when you think no one is looking. Be responsible. Carry your used baggies home with you to discard. If you leave it out of bags completely, it’ll be flushed down the storm drains carrying with it water-borne fecal pathogens which pose serious health dangers to the people and critters accessing the Otter Creek, an impaired river that provides drinking water to our northern neighbors.
MaBudda is out on her street using her picker-upper and brown paper bags, doing as she is telling her neighbors to do. She is doing her part. She wears her rubber boots and is careful not to disturb the soft, wet soil. Her picker-upper is a repurposed medical device that works just as well for picking up litter as it does items on high shelves.
Maybe some humanoids have forgotten to respect what we have here. Remember your mother and that home we call Rutland. Vermont has only one Green-Up Day assigned in May to clean-up our earth. Those dedicated volunteers know about respecting one’s “mother”, and it’s time to join forces with them and not ever throw litter on our Mother Earth again. This is what we have pockets for. Mother Frog wants her pollywogs to have a chance at survival. We can all do better.
As she moves around Rivendale picking up litter, she stops to look at Mother Frog – the Mother Frog that people see when they pass by Rivendale every day. “Mother Frog”, MaBudda speaks aloud, “Do you want to be painted, or are you okay shriveling up as you age gracefully in the midst of the chaos around you?”
Worms are coming out of their flooded holes. That means red-breasted robins are nearby searching for a meal. One in particular, still in the nearby grass, listens to MaBudda’s rhetorical question and chirrs, “Please wake up soon, Mother Frog. We need your wisdom to travel around Rutland City on the gentle spring breeze. There is humanoid litter everywhere. Things aren’t getting better.”
Chapter Three: Part Three: "Mother Frog Returns"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Three, Part Three
From high up on the hills we call Pico and Killington, the snowmelt is draining down into the valleys causing the rivers to be high and fast moving. They take anything left along their banks and sweep it away downstream. The good people who are still around pick up the best they can. They bring home the litter that melting snow has revealed and place it in their own garbage cans. They don’t want their waterways polluted with trash.
At Rivendale, the squirrel family scurries by as Razz looks on. “Look at this, things are coming alive again. Pretty soon, Mother Frog will be awake, and we’ll learn more about how to survive.”
The street sweeper rumbles by. Dust and debris scatters and flies.
MaBudda sits on her front porch pulling on her rubber boots. She has bags ready and her picker-upper beside her. Today is another clean-up day.
The sun is shining, the warmth is tangible, but the breeze is still cool.
Slowly, the ground is beginning to dry out. It’ll be a while still, though, with the many April showers keeping it moist.
Meanwhile, as MaBudda collects humanoid litter, Daddy Fox looks for food to bring back to his den where his mate is staying with the cubs to provide warmth. Mr. Otter, who has been active all winter, is out searching for a mate, and Little Turtle emerges to bask on a rock in the sun and warmup after a long winter rest. Spring feels almost like there is magic in the air. The kind of magic felt on the night when the Chaffee Bench brought Mother Frog to life.
MaBudda returns to her front porch. As she looks out over Rivendale, she moves her head to the left, and there she sees Mother Frog in all of her glory. She has awoken from her winter slumber! Finally!
Mother Frog looks out over Rivendale, and she sees that there is a positive effort being made at this urban homestead to keep the animals safe. But she doesn’t waste any time seeing what has to be done immediately, like picking up humanoid garbage thrown out the window of passing car.
She acknowledges MaBudda, looks right at her and in a determined voice says,
“WE have much work to do.”
Chapter Four: Part One: "Mr. Opossum's Lesson"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Four, Part One
The days are getting warmer and blossoms are everywhere at Rivendale. Mother Frog has awoken once again and sees that there a lot of work to do. Animals from across the northwest neighborhood are beginning to arrive. They want to know what Mother Frog will say next. What words of wisdom will she offer? What will she say about Randy Raven’s plan?
The animals have gathered again. They’re ready to listen.
Mother Frog glances toward Lincoln Avenue and sees Mr. Opossum playing dead in the street. “Mr. Opossum,” Mother Frog calls, alarmed, “Get Up!!! Stop playing dead in the street. Playing dead in the road, when it is safe on the other side, is counterintuitive.”
Mr. Opossum awakes with a start, surveys his surroundings just in time to see a humanoid’s crackle-tuned car barreling toward him. He scurries to the safety of Rivendale in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding the danger.
“That was a close call!” Razz the Blue Jay exclaims. “Why were you playing dead in the street!?”
“I, I can’t remember why,” a slightly confused opossum replies, “Playing dead is just what I do. Sometimes I don’t even think about it. I just do it and wake up in a few minutes or a few hours later.”
“That’s the problem,” Mother Frog chides, “too many just do without thinking about the reasons why or why not.”
“Playing dead might be instinctual for Mr. Opossum, but it’s not in his best interest in all situations. Humanoids also do a lot of things without thinking. They may enjoy them, but they’re not in their best interest. They’re at risk, just like Mr. Opossum was,” wise Papa Otter intercedes in the conversation.
“Yeah, like modifying their cars to make noises that sound like gunfire and instills fear and scares the local wildlife. That’s not in the humanoids best interest.” Razz interjects, “No way!”
“The answer is called discernment,” Mother Frog tells the gathered animals,
“That’s what they need.”
Chapter Four: Part Two: "Facts"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Four, Part Two
The new beginning for Rivendale continues now that Mother Frog has returned and saved Mr. Opossum from getting run over in the street while playing dead. Lincoln Avenue, the location of Rivendale, has recently been repaved and everyone seems to like it. There are many walkers. Those riding skateboards, scooters, and bikes cruise down the street. It’s the time of year when most people are spending time outside, if they can enjoy it with all the crackle-tuned cars strutting their stuff sounding like gunfire. “For what reason?” many might ask.
So often, humanoids just do things without really considering the reasons why or the impact their actions might have on those around them.
“The answer is called discernment,” Mother Frog tells the gathered animals, “That’s what they need.” Upon hearing this strange, unknown word, the gathered animals give Mother Frog their full attention and listen carefully to their teacher.
“To discern means to judge well and then use the facts you’ve gathered to make decisions.”
“Mother Frog, I’m sorry to interrupt, but what are facts?” asks a pensive Little Turtle.
“Well Little Turtle, facts are things that are true and can be proven. Like, trees produce oxygen for living things to breathe, rain falls from the clouds, and a turtle can’t come out of its shell.”
She continues, “Humanoids are forgetting this. They are confusing facts and fiction, truth and lies. Discernment allows them to realize things that are true and recognize lies.”
Mr. Fox chimes in, “Humans are blessed. They can gather information and make wise decisions about what is true and what isn’t. But now, it’s like they’re being brainwashed by humanoids who are telling them what to believe.”
“We are in a crisis and the humanoids don’t know it yet. They’re playing dead like Mr. Opossum,” Mother Frog teaches, “Some are swimming in water they’ve polluted and breathing poisonous fumes into their lungs.”
“Since you helped me when I wasn’t thinking clearly, I want to help them, but how do we help?” ponders Mr. Opossum.
Suddenly, a distinctive “Kraaa!” comes from high in the tree above. That sound means only one thing.
Randy Raven is in attendance, too, listening from his perch above.
“Come down here!” Mother Frog instructs.
Randy swoops down and perches nearby with a flutter of his large wings. “Don’t bother helping them. Save yourselves. My kind already left, you should, too. You know it’s true Mother Frog.”
Two ideas are about to collide. How will the animals decide which is best? How will we?
To Be Continued…
Chapter Four: Part Three: "Last Open Woodland"
A Mother Frog Tail©: Chapter Four, Part Three
Only crickets can be heard chirping at Rivendale after Randy Raven’s unexpected return. How will Mother Frog deal with this alternative thinker?
“You’re right,” she finally replies after pondering his entrance for several moments.
“What???” Randy asks, shocked by what he believed he heard come from her mouth.
“I said, you are right,” Mother Frog repeats, “the woods ARE safer for us and for our children. The water, air, and grass are cleaner. The noises aren’t dangerous and noxious.”
“See!” Randy brags as he looks toward Papa Squirrel and his family, “I told you months ago. You should’ve listened to me then.”
“BUT,” Mother Frog interrupts, “you are also wrong, Randy! We can’t save ourselves if we don’t help save the humanoids. We are interconnected. This climate crisis affects us all.”
She continues, “Humanoids need to go out into the woods also, to connect with nature, clear their heads, and find peace of mind. MaBudda is trying to get the message out, but she needs help to wake up the humanoids who are playing dead.”
Then, Mother Frog makes a proclamation into the summer breeze that carries her words to all animals within Rutland City.
“Mr. Fox, and all others with children or who are looking for mates who can hear my words: Travel across the river to the west. There you will find open woods, the last open woodlands in Rutland City. You’ll find safety there. It will be your new home.”
Mr. Fox, who has been roaming the Northwest neighborhood hunting for food to feed his new litter, asks “The old place where humans went to learn?”
“Yes,” Mother Frog replies, “they called it a college. Like Rivendale, it’s a safe haven within this city. There is space for all of you and many more.”
“Will you come with us?” Mr. Opossum wonders, still feeling grateful that his life was saved.
“No, my place is here at Rivendale. You will still hear my lessons whispered on the winds if you choose to listen. Those who want to help wake up the humanoids, you may stay. Otherwise, go with my blessing.”
Many of the animals – Mr. Fox, the squirrel family, Ma Doe, and Little Turtle – begin to prepare for their difficult journey to Clementwood. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.
MaBudda, while looking on from her side porch, “We all play dead. We have to learn discernment again to make wise decisions. How do we learn discernment? Some of us used to have catechism. What do we have now? We have pundits and politicians telling us what to believe and filling our newsfeeds with misinformation. We must prioritize teaching our children to gather facts and evaluate them instead of simply believing what they see or what they’re told. We must care for each other again, reconnect with nature, practice mindfulness, realize that what is good for one of us is good for all of us, and focus on what is truly important – like being with your family and helping your neighbor. Mr. Opossum barely avoided a tragedy while playing dead. He woke up just in time. Now is our time to WAKE UP!”
