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  • In April, around sunset, you hear them chirping. Little, invisible zombies back from the dead. I turn off the TV and crack the window to listen. There must be thousands of them.

    Pseudacris crucifer means "chorus frog with a cross on its back". They are tiny -- no bigger than your thumb, and difficult to see in the marshy weeds and murky water. They spend the winter frozen under snow and ice in little ponds, and they come back to life when the ice melts. Then the males start chirping to call the females. "I'm here!" they say. "I'm still here!" Apparently, they can't believe it either.

    These formerly frozen frogs have taught me how to survive the long winters up here. Slow down your heart, don't try to breathe. Let ice form in your veins.

    There are things I can't see, but I know they are there.

    I'm still here.
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