I somehow survived turning a year older, and as a reward for my dogged longevity—OK, 67 isn't really that old, particularly these days—I headed off into the backwoods for a reconnoiter. I left the Sigma supertelephoto in its case and opted, instead, for the 85mm micro, in the hope that I could "capture" some good closeups of wildflowers, mosses, and emerging ferns. I was gifted with plenty of that botanical trio in my viewfinder. My wrists, strengthened by a year of physical therapy exercises, held the lens steady, and a judicious application of yoga deep-breathing techniques worked like a virtual tripod. But as I scanned the wet area, I spotted something unexpected: a very young Wood Frog. It's really too early for this year's tadpoles to be metamorphosing, so I'm guessing that this one must have been the runt of last year's batrachian litter. If I'm right, it probably was too small to enter the 2017 breeding sweepstakes and is concentrating on putting enough weight on during the growing season to be ready to vie for Wood Frog parenthood next year.