I made a gallon of tea, fixed a glass, and went out on the porch. I sat, thought about things, and then the bullfrogs caught my attention.
There must be around a dozen in the area. They all have different calls. Some are higher pitched, others lower, and some sound like teenagers; their voice breaking from the effort to sound older.
One was probably the old bull. His loud, low call almost echoed in the night, and when he called, the others were quiet for a few moments. I imagine the females are lining up on the bank for his attention.
I'll soon go back out, sit, sip some tea, and listen to the night. It's more pleasant than anything on television, and there aren't any commercials.