The Frog That Flew

He sat perched on the outstretched branch of a tree. He was much higher than he had ever ventured before, his small legs were tired from the journey but his heart pounded in anticipation and excitement. He peered out into the sky, his brain alive with the possibilities of what he was about to attempt. He didn’t want to look down for fear of how high he actually sat, but he looked down and he saw the water. The water, where he had began life. Now he was here, in a tree. He recalled how he once had a tail, and swam, and could easily breathe beneath the water. But then he began to change, and he grew legs, and he could breathe air. Now, now he was convinced the webbing between his fingers and his toes was growing more pronounced. He was convinced he was changing again. He was convinced he would be able to fly. 

Fletcher was a frog. But not your typical frog. As a tadpole, the very second his muscles were strong enough, he was swimming as fast as he possibly could, always on the go. As he and his peers’ bodies began to change, they were all apprehensive. Fletcher was not. It was indeed a very big change, not the least of which was learning a new way of life. Leaving the water for the land, leaving everything they had ever known. But Fletcher hopped right out and didn’t stop hopping for a second thereafter. His friends were always saying, “slow down, stop hopping so much!” And Fletcher would smile and let them talk. He loved hopping. He had loved swimming, and now he loved hopping. But he yearned for more. Fletcher yearned to fly like the birds. 

The first time he shared his dream with his friends they laughed and said it was impossible. But Fletcher simply asked, “Why? Why do you think that it is impossible my friends?” To his mind, they had all started out breathing under water and swimming like the fish, now they hopped around on land and breathed air like mammals, so who was to say they couldn’t grow wings and fly?

Fletcher looked up from the water, still sat on that outstretched tree branch. He looked out into the sky and the clouds. He closed his eyes. He summoned all his courage, tensed his small but powerful muscles, and he leapt. He leapt and he spread his arms and legs and fingers and toes as wide as he could. He cautiously opened one eye and exhilaration gripped him, he was gliding through the air, but suddenly he felt a sharp pinch on one of his legs. “Oh no,” he thought. The worst had happened. A predator had grabbed him. And not just any predator, but the mighty kingfisher. 

He contorted his body to look up at his foe, its wings bright and beautiful in the sunlight. Fear took hold of Fletcher’s entire body. “Excuse me- Mr, Kingfisher?” He called. Kingfisher said nothing and kept flying. “Please don’t eat me,” pleaded Fletcher. Still Kingfisher remained silent. Fletcher knew this was the end. He again pleaded, “Please don’t eat me.” And he started thinking aloud. “I was just trying to realize a dream of mine and it’s landed me in your mighty talons.” Fletcher began to cry. As they flew further he remembered he had leapt from that branch in the face of death and felt ready for that. He had not considered being eaten- but the result would have been the same. Either way he would have risked it all for his dream. This notion made him feel a little better. He finally exclaimed, “I just wanted to be like you and to fly!” Kingfisher broke his silence and laughed- “That is a stupid dream, frogs cannot fly!” To which Fletcher quickly retorted “I’m flying right now, aren’t I?” Kingfisher stopped laughing. “Perhaps, but flying to your doom,” he quipped back. “Regardless,” said Fletcher, “it may not be the way I envisioned flying, but I am a flying frog! I realized my dream! I started as a tiny tadpole, taught to swim in the water, I grew legs and breathed air, and now I am soaring through the skies- I learned , and I grew, and I pursued the thing that made me feel most alive. I have lived!” exclaimed Fletcher. Kingfisher looked down at his prey, helpless in his mighty talons and they began to descend.

Kingfisher dropped Fletcher into a hole in the earth, a hole just deep enough, Kingfisher knew, that no frog could jump out of. “What is going on?” asked Fletcher. “I’m thinking” replied Kingfisher. The bird walked the perimeter of the hole for some time. This was the most frightened Fletcher had ever been. But his heart was still pounding from the excitement of his flight. “What did you mean when you said you had learned?” Asked Kingfisher. “Well,” Fletcher cautiously replied, “I guess I meant that I had been taught to live one way, and then things changed, so I had to learn to live another way. And since things had changed so much before, I began to hope and believe that they could again. When I was a tadpole I thought swimming and living underwater was the best thing in the world. But then when I grew legs and hopped around on the earth I was able to see the sun and the moon and the stars and the skies and that seemed even better. So that since things had changed, I knew that they could change, and that gave hope to my dream of flying.” Kingfisher said nothing and Fletcher was worried he had said too much. Kingfisher looked up in the sky, and after what seemed like an eternity he asked, “What is your name?” “Fletcher,” squeaked the tiny frog. “Fletcher,” Kingfisher said, “My mother and father taught me to fish. They taught me to hunt frogs. It’s all I’ve known. But you know the truth of it is I don’t even like the taste of frog. But not until your story had I ever thought about eating other things. Maybe I’ll try seeds… or leaves. After all, if you can be a flying frog, why can’t I be a vegetarian kingfisher?!” Kingfisher hopped down into the hole and Fletcher sat motionless and wide eyed. “I’m not going to eat you,” said Kingfisher. “My name is Kingston- would you like me to take you for a flight, my friend?” And so Fletcher and Kingston soared through the air, a fulfilled frog, and an enlightened king.