The Lost Haven of Laughing Bullfrog

Childhood reminiscences of magical place in nature now under the water of a new reservoir.

The Lost Haven of Laughing Bullfrog

A Childhood Sanctuary Remembered

by Triple L

There was a magical place hidden deep in the arms of nature, a secret refuge where my boyhood heart found joy and wonder. I named it "Laughing Bullfrog," inspired by the lively chorus of frogs that would swell from the marshy banks every spring. Their calls, desperate yet harmonious, would echo beneath the silver moon as they serenaded the unseen ladies among the reeds. At dusk, the world would seem to pause, and the symphony of croaks became the pulse of the land.
I spent countless hours in that wild sanctuary, learning the subtle language of the creatures who called it home. The squirrels would chatter with me from their leafy perches, and the blue herons would study me with quiet approval. Even the shy turtles basking on sun-warmed logs seemed to nod as I passed by, their ancient wisdom shared in glances. For me, it was more than just a place; Laughing Bullfrog was an enchanted portal where I belonged--not merely an observer, but a participant in the secret life of the woods.
My family began to call me "nature boy," a nickname borrowed from a popular song that played on the radio in those days. They teased, but there was pride in their voices, and I wore the name like a badge. In Laughing Bullfrog, I was free--free to dream, to wander, and to befriend the wild things that most people never noticed. The tall grass, the dragonflies, and the symphony of frogs became my companions, teaching me patience and wonder.
Years passed, and as I grew older, life's current swept me far from my magical haven. The navy called, and I answered, sailing far from the green shadow of the riverbank. I would think of Laughing Bullfrog in quiet moments, the memories colored by sunlight and the music of frogs. But change is relentless. While I was away, progress arrived in the form of a dam--the river was tamed, and the wild meadows drowned beneath the rising waters of a new reservoir.
When I finally returned, my sanctuary was gone. The chorus of frogs had fallen silent, replaced by the wide expanse of the new lake. Standing at the shore, I mourned the loss of that magical place, but the spirit of Laughing Bullfrog lingered in my heart--a reminder of innocence, wonder, and the wild harmony that once was. Though the land has changed, the magic I found there shaped me forever, and I carry its memory wherever I go, a "nature boy" for life.