The lullaby of nightlife

When you sleep in a new place, there is always something to get used to: a different path to the bathroom in the middle of the night, where to put your dirty clothing  or how to adjust the pillow so you can sleep well. Last night, all of those things were easy to figure out and cope with. What became a bit vexing were our neighbors, the bull frogs.

Initially, I didn't think much of them with their deep basso ribbit. There is a repetition, somewhat like a Philip Glass composition, and then an answer in a different tone and pattern. And then it starts up all again. But after a while this unending mantra can become a bit noisy. Now I could close the window, but then the room would become a bit stuffy. 

And I also tried to figure out why they were communicating in the way they were. Was it a mating call? Were they just looking for some buddies to hang with? Were they reptilian juvenile delinquents wanting to keep at least one bicyclist up that evening? The more I thought about it the less I could sleep.

But as I am supposed to be on vacation, I figured that I should put my analytical side aside and just go with the flow. Once I accepted that the frogs were serenading me I soon fell under their spell and dropped off into a deep sleep.