Somebody's Watching Me

It was morning, and I stopped on my way to work at the same spot along Spring Creek where I'd stopped the morning before. It's a place I usually visit once every week or two. I think of it now as the parking lot of the Purloined Madonna. (The back story on all of that can be found here and here.)

When I stop there, I always check (of course) to see if either of the Madonna statues has been returned. And I did that. None present, alas. And so we continue to be Madonna-less. I do admit I have thought about placing one myself, but on the other side of the stream from the parking lot this time, where someone would have to wade across the creek to remove it. But I digress . . .

Strangely enough, what I was really hoping to see on this day was the awesomely cool wheel bug I had spotted on a bush along Spring Creek the morning before. The photo I posted on Blip for Tuesday ended up being the marvelous polyphemus moth that I rescued in my work parking lot Tuesday afternoon rather than Tuesday morning's wheel bug. So I was hoping for a second shot at Blipping the wheel bug. But - like Madonnas - alas we were deficient of wheel bugs, and there were none present on this day.

I did spend a few minutes looking around, though, and I snapped some morning bumblebee-napping shots with my camera, not unlike this one I used in a prior Blip. There is a tall stand of teasel along the creek that they like to hang out in: a real bumblebee bed and breakfast. (I know the bumblebees' secrets, I think to myself. And smile.)

May I tell you a secret? It has become some weird sort of addiction for me, this search for morning bumblers sleeping under the blooms. Every morning, now that I know they're there, I search beneath the blooms (and teasels - teasel is another good napping spot) for the dew-covered, snoozing bees. I think they're precious. I want to see more of them. I can't help myself. I keep taking pictures. I don't show most of them to anyone. But again, I digress . . .

As I approached my car to leave, I suddenly had the odd, vague feeling that one gets when one is being watched. I thought I had heard a sploosh in one of the muddy puddles in the parking lot the day before, and so I checked them and discovered a pair of golden eyes watching me!

Um . . . ribbit?

I kneeled down to get a few photos, and eventually I got too close, of course. And so then the frog disappeared with a startled sploosh into the puddle and I got back in my car and continued on to work. Had there been no sploosh, no disappearing frog, I might still be there!

Sidebar: a photographer's lame excuses for arriving a few minutes late for work on occasion . . .
It was sunny and beautiful.
It was snowy and beautiful.
It was foggy and beautiful.
There was clear blue sky and I couldn't pull myself away.
There were really neat clouds and I couldn't pull myself away.
I spotted a raptor eating its prey and I couldn't pull myself away.
There were water droplets on every leaf and I couldn't leave before seeing them all.
There were bumblebees napping beneath the blooms.
There were frogs in every puddle.

How can anyone expect me to come indoors and go to work, with all of that morning stuff going on!? I rest my case! But once again, I digress . . .

The song to accompany this photo of the watchful eyes of a frog - the frog who lives in the parking lot of the Purloined Madonna - is the 1984 Rockwell hit, Somebody's Watching Me. If you listen closely, you may notice Michael Jackson's voice on the backing vocals.