While I have never had a knack for writing poetry, rhyming words has never been a problem. That’s not to say I can’t be poetic, it’s just that scripting words about things I’ve experienced is much less painful than rhyming words in free verse.

In column writing, you almost always have to write about things you know. I guess that’s because writers are comfortable with topics that fit their personality and readers can always tell when a writer is uncomfortable.

Now, aside from feeling submerged with all this rain, I’ve made some wonderful discoveries I’ll contribute without having to rhyme any words.

One of them has to do with frogs, not the ones that turn into a handsome prince when kissed by a beautiful princess, but the slimy creatures that have resurfaced in the last few days.

I mean, where do they all come from and where were they hidden to begin with? The whole affair just seems mysteriously puzzling and exciting.

I opened my back door and all I heard was “… ribbit ... ribbit ... ribbit.” The sounds emanated from everywhere.

Even the neighbor’s cats seemed overwhelmed.

I read somewhere that the presence of frogs is a good indication of when an ecosystem is in sound condition.

That’s because frogs are almost always the first to go during bad times. So I guess - judging from the number of frogs in my backyard - our ecosystem must be doing pretty well. It’s apparent they’re hardy little creatures that adapt easily to their environment.

I guess that’s because Frogs have it easy, they can eat anything that bugs them. Unfortunately, we can’t.

What bugs me are the persistent rains that have fallen over the last couple of days. It’s turned my backyard into a virtual swamp, the streets are covered with water, and almost no one owns an umbrella. And that’s not all. The rains have closed roads and opened potholes all over South Texas.

The sad part is that while the rains are needed, they almost always fall within a few days and then almost always disappear for months on end.

And that ‘ribbit’ sound you hear, that’s the male frogs trying to attract the opposite sex like the guys hanging out at the singles bar looking for a healthy female.

Yep! It may be hard to believe but frogs also like to mess around. And there’s more.

On Thursday, while at the office, I was informed that a full-grown turtle had somehow made its way to the front steps that leads to the lobby of City Hall.

“No way,” I said. But sure enough, there it was: A full grown turtle tightly concealed in its well-armored shell. What a magnificent creature!

Fortunately, the turtle didn’t bother anyone coming into the building and it was quickly relocated to a more appropriate location away from the traffic of human pedestrians.

Interestingly, there are lots of poems written about frogs. There’s the popular “Phileas the Frog” by Mark Slaughter, “Little Frog” by Brady McCrary, and many more written by poets from all over the world.

It’s funny that people don’t consider these creatures as being a part of our ecosystem, yet there they’re always here when it rains.

While I can’t tell you how much rain fell this week, I can say it has been a constant sorrow for someone accustomed to the dry conditions. I guess that’s why they call it April showers.