Listening

Tonight I completed my first Frog and Toad survey for Friends of the Rouge. While I didn't hear any frogs I did hear (and see) plenty. I walked over to my local section of the Upper Rouge, east of Beech-Daly and just south of Six Mile. A storm drain creates a small creek that drains into the river across a grassy floodplain. Air traffic was heavy--five flights all one after the other separated by about 30-45 seconds each with their muffled roars overhead. The robins were active at dusk, flitting and crying here and there. The quiet wash of water could be heard from time to time. The flattened drumming of the intermittent rain could be heard from the trees and the hood on my head. The scratch of a squirrel scrambling up a tree caught me, only to have it play stare down until I moved. I thought I heard one croak, but I believe it was something else, something unknown--though not scary unknown.
Visually I observed the bleached brown grasses, the naked stems, a muddy deer trail, and the remains of a raccoon--it's loosening fur a dull, necrotic gray. It was flattened and on it's back, the canines visible, bared for a threat it couldn't respond to.
No frogs though. Maybe next time, near a pool.