Tree Frog LbNA #65686
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Add Location| Owner: | Adoptable |
|---|---|
| Plant date: | Sep 1, 2013 |
| Location: | Fallasburg Park |
| City: | Lowell |
| County: | Kent |
| State: | Michigan |
| Boxes: | 1 |
| Planted by: | Maple Hill Billies  |
|---|---|
| Found by: | Kevin J Arnold |
| Last found: | Jun 6, 2021 |
| Status: | OFFFFFFF |
| Last edited: | Sep 1, 2013 |
This is our first time placing a letterbox. We hope you enjoy! Please message us if there is a problem.
Once upon a time there was a little frog (we will call him Froggy) who lived in Fallasburg Park. One day he was exploring the riverbank near MacPherson road when he saw a car pull into the Disc Golf parking lot. Of course he didn’t think anything of it, because cars did that all the time. But his little heart leaped when he saw a man in a tall white hat heading West on the trail. He leaped towards the river in a panic, because the man was a French chef, and he was looking for FROG LEGS!!! Yikes!
Too late! The chef saw him and gave chase. Froggy made like a troll, knowing that if the chef got too close, he could leap off into the water and gain some time.
At the other side he turned right, remembering to avoid the poison ivy. He came to a fork in the road and turned left, hoping that the chef would think he’d turned right, along the river. The chef spotted him before he hopped between the two halves of a fallen tree, and followed him. Further along on the trail the chef stumbled on the rocks. Don’t do the same.
Froggy hurried on, following the curve around the hill. He saw a good hiding spot among the roots of a tree, and a likely lair in an old block of wood, but the chef was gaining on him, so he kept going.
Froggy crossed a wet spot on the path, the chef close behind him. The chef didn’t realize that the place was slippery, and fell, getting his white apron all muddy. When he got up Froggy was splashing through a stream up ahead. The chef used the rocks, but you can splash through if you feel Froggy today.
At the end of the curvy climb the chef was huffing and puffing, and Froggy was way ahead. Froggy passed under a tree supported by its neighbor. A bit further down the path, he wondered what that cement thing was off to his right, but jumped on because he could still hear the chef wheezing behind him.
After a bend in the path he came to a fork. “Blue is true!” he thought to himself, and kept hopping.
At another choice he headed downhill, towards the river. He saw a stripped tree on the right, but he heard the chef coming so he hurried on. He leaped over three stony crossings. He saw a large tree on the left, but he was getting tired and really didn’t feel like climbing uphill. Two monarchs of the forest caught his buggy eye on the right. He chose the one nearest the path, and there he found the perfect hiding place.
It worked! The chef hurried right past him. After a few more minutes he gave up on his nefarious plans and headed back to the kitchen, never to frog hunt again.
Froggy liked his hiding spot so much that he decided to make it his permanent home, knowing that he could live there hoppily ever after.
Once upon a time there was a little frog (we will call him Froggy) who lived in Fallasburg Park. One day he was exploring the riverbank near MacPherson road when he saw a car pull into the Disc Golf parking lot. Of course he didn’t think anything of it, because cars did that all the time. But his little heart leaped when he saw a man in a tall white hat heading West on the trail. He leaped towards the river in a panic, because the man was a French chef, and he was looking for FROG LEGS!!! Yikes!
Too late! The chef saw him and gave chase. Froggy made like a troll, knowing that if the chef got too close, he could leap off into the water and gain some time.
At the other side he turned right, remembering to avoid the poison ivy. He came to a fork in the road and turned left, hoping that the chef would think he’d turned right, along the river. The chef spotted him before he hopped between the two halves of a fallen tree, and followed him. Further along on the trail the chef stumbled on the rocks. Don’t do the same.
Froggy hurried on, following the curve around the hill. He saw a good hiding spot among the roots of a tree, and a likely lair in an old block of wood, but the chef was gaining on him, so he kept going.
Froggy crossed a wet spot on the path, the chef close behind him. The chef didn’t realize that the place was slippery, and fell, getting his white apron all muddy. When he got up Froggy was splashing through a stream up ahead. The chef used the rocks, but you can splash through if you feel Froggy today.
At the end of the curvy climb the chef was huffing and puffing, and Froggy was way ahead. Froggy passed under a tree supported by its neighbor. A bit further down the path, he wondered what that cement thing was off to his right, but jumped on because he could still hear the chef wheezing behind him.
After a bend in the path he came to a fork. “Blue is true!” he thought to himself, and kept hopping.
At another choice he headed downhill, towards the river. He saw a stripped tree on the right, but he heard the chef coming so he hurried on. He leaped over three stony crossings. He saw a large tree on the left, but he was getting tired and really didn’t feel like climbing uphill. Two monarchs of the forest caught his buggy eye on the right. He chose the one nearest the path, and there he found the perfect hiding place.
It worked! The chef hurried right past him. After a few more minutes he gave up on his nefarious plans and headed back to the kitchen, never to frog hunt again.
Froggy liked his hiding spot so much that he decided to make it his permanent home, knowing that he could live there hoppily ever after.