8. I was told there would be glowing.
Advertisement
In a still pond a gravid tree frog clung to a stem as moonlight traced silver across ripples. Her swelling form signaled imminent release. Instinct drew her to weave a subtle nursery among aquatic plants. Eggs soon glistened beneath the surface before hatching into darting tadpoles that transformed day by day. As limbs formed they ventured onto damp banks, heirs to two realms. Her vivid hues and vigilant care framed a concise portrait of adaptability and the seamless flow of life.
Advertisement
