All I do is work all day! So here are some pics instead of words.



In real life the shovel dwarfs the truck, which dwarfs you. See?

Fanart Friday: Darth Vader

Vader made entirely of boldface. From the Star Wars blog, and they got it from Ironic Sans. How cool is that? So here are some more fun Vaders for you. Because the Dark Lords of the Sith are all about fun!






Artwork by: jbrant047, Michael Paul Bowen, adventurevisual, biztech3000, Lord Mesa and joefreakinrocks.

Have you heard about the mysterious deaths of over 40 cownose rays at the Calgary Zoo this week? We went and looked at them a couple of months ago, they were beautiful. I took this video, kind of sad to think they are all now dead. On Sounds Like Canada this morning the Zoo's Chief Veterinarian said all but three died, and they don't yet know why. Deliberate poisoning hasn't been ruled out but isn't IS considered the most likely cause thus far.
Here's the initial report and the latest update.
(Sorry if you can't see the Flickr video- I tried uploading it five times to YouTube and for some reason it failed every time.)

Happy Mother's Day!
Apparently I look like a father, because the cashier at the Esso, seeing the picture of Michelle I keep in my wallet, said, "Oh is that your daughter?"
I guess I'm going gray faster than I realized. After I explained that she is in fact my wife and not really that much younger than me, the cashier said, "Well if you can believe it I'm almost 30."
"I DO believe it," I said, and left.
A petty revenge, but still sweet.

Chapter 8- Rana's story concluded (Back to the beginning)



Ree was contemplating mischief again. What else was there to do in the rain? Earlier while hunting she had come across a freshly-molted tarantula exoskeleton. It was kind of creepy at first, coming face to face with a looming, motionless arachnid in the gloom of the forest floor. Ree giggled at herself as she remembered how she had assumed the defensive posture of poison frogs- up on all fours, plainly visible so that her coloring could do the work of warning away predators. After an embarrassingly long time frozen in that position she realized that it was not a spider before her, but rather its "ghost". Which is when the ghost of an idea began haunting her brain.
There were logistical problems, of course. Not to mention the general ickiness of wearing a spider skin. But imagine Roar's reaction when she crept up and jumped out in front of him! Again, though, the yuck factor was a little high for comfort. Reluctantly, she told herself that wearing animal parts, even just cast-off outgrown skin, was just too morbid. not really her style. Oh well.
It stopped raining. Time to make her way back to her mate. She had last seen him to the north. Casually she wended off in that direction, keeping an alert eye out for tasty snacks and edibles along the way. As always, there was no shortage of bugs and worms emerging after a rainfall. Hopefully Roar was also enjoying a post-rain treat. He got a little grumpy if he went too long without eating.
She waved absentmindedly at a pretty orange toad who must have just woken up from a nap, judging by the groggy expression on his face.
The clean, serene silence of the freshly washed rainforest was abruptly broken by a familiar voice singing a dreadful song. Roar was sounding a Frog Chorus alarm. A second voice, one she didn't recognize, could also be heard. Clearly something was afoot. Ree abandoned her casual stroll and broke into a frog gallop, enabling her to cover the remaining distance startlingly fast. She emerged into a clearing and saw Roar rushing about, and more of those orange toads, and a flock of green toucanets. It was chaos. And it was carnage. All this Ree saw in a glance, and she also saw immediately what she had to do.
Without slowing she veered directly towards the most urgent crisis- one of the toucanets was swooping down on a lethargic toad. For some reason the toad was not doing anything to avoid the bird. Why were all these toads so dopey? It didn't matter. She needed to help. If she timed it right . . . yes! The bird was on the ground, lazily regarding its intended prey with casual arrogance. It didn't see her.
With a mighty heave of her fatigued leg muscles she leapt aboard the green pirate. Even though she was expecting it, it was still a shock when the bird took to the air. The way the wings were fluttering, the speed of the launch, it was more than she had anticipated. Ree held on tight, committed now to an action she hadn't really planned out in detail. Grasping hold of the iridescent plumage she pulled herself along, fighting vertigo and trying not to look down. She had to hurry.
The toucanet was squawking and trying to stab at Ree with its great beak, but it couldn't reach. Ree waited until the next thrust, concentrating fiercely to get the timing right, and grabbed hold. Her stomach lurched and the rational part of her brain kept telling her she was crazy. Crazy! But it worked. She was atop the bird's beak, with nothing the bird could do. With regret but not hesitation, she swiped at the toucanet's eye. The poison on her fingerpads killed the bird instantly. It plummeted to the ground. Ree jumped away and fell too. She landed without dignity, but also without injury.
Breathing heavily, she looked around. The remainder of the flock had flown away at the commotion. The surviving toads, finally shaken from their hazy daze, looked at her in astonishment. They began to sing a song of thanks.
Roar came up to her, hugged her, and said, "I hope you're the last frog to rain down out of the sky today because it's just weird."
_________________________________________________________________________

Since I couldn't think of a good song about birds and frogs, I will use a song from the new Raconteurs disc instead- it's called The Switch and the Spur and has a cool poem in it that sort of fits this chapter:

Any pour souls who trespass against us
Whether it be beast or man
Will suffer the bite or be stung dead on sight
By those who inhabit this land
For there's is the power and this is the kingdom
As sure as the sun does burn
So enter this path, but heed these four words,
You shall never return...

Anyways, I'm not entirely satisfied with the action sequence- the description of it at any rate. Action is not my strong point as a writer. But I can practice and get better and this is how I do that. But overall I'm happy with how this turned out.
Dedicated to Taymin who just turned 1 last week and is getting a stuffed froggie from me as a present. I'm sure she'll like the frog better than the chapter, at least for a few years!

Fanart Friday: Iron Man

I haven't seen it yet but I'm glad ole Shellhead is enjoying some overdue popularity.
We Are Iron Men!




Images by Lord Mesa, Skulljammer, the Aphex, Walrus boy, Gattadonna and Wind Lord of Suldor.

New Clone Wars trailer is gonna be on TV tonight, at 7:58. And then someone will put it on the internet at 8:02.
And Grant Gould is showing one of the hundred sketch cards he did (officially) for the release, this one of Asajj Ventress.

Against my better judgment I took an overtime shift at work. I haven't worked an overtime in three years- since before I got married. When you spend four days of every week 300 kms away from your wife, you don't really ever want to voluntarily extend your time away from home. Even for time-and-a-half pay, which works out to close to a trillion dollars a day, more or less. I might exaggerate. But recent events have forced my hand. First I hadda buy a new (used) car, then I hadda buy a garage to put said new car in. Total cost : a trillion times a hundred dollars, I think. The math is a little fuzzy. But however you add it up, it equals me spending less time at home for the next little while. But don't start feeling too weepy for me- I still get three days off this week.
Anyways my friend the rebel penguin started a blog, so go say hi.

Chapter 7- Rana tells a story (Back to the beginning)

It was an unusual day. It was raining. That in itself is not very unusual in a rainforest. But usually it rains . . . rain. Little drops of water. What made today's rainfall stand out was the fact that it was raining frogs. Dozens of orangey gold frogs were falling from the sky.
Roar watched this in amazement from his perch on an aloe leaf. He saw some of them land more or less upright, and were able to hop, albeit with dazed and stunned expressions. Others, though, landed awkwardly and didn't move. Recovering from his surprise, he was just about to go down and help when he was knocked off his leaf and into the mud with a plop. A half second later he broke the impact for the little golden cousin who had slammed into his frond, causing his fall in the first place.
“Are you okay?” asked both frogs at once. There was a brief cacophonous moment as each of them strove to assure the other that he was indeed unhurt. Roar backed away a few paces, to give the other space and to be safe- he didn't want to poison this new-found friend who seems to have had enough misfortune already today. As he examined the cousin he realized it was not a frog at all, but rather a toad. Roughly his own size.
“What's going on?” Roar finally thought to ask. In the chaos it was hard to think straight. Too much going on.
The toad looked around as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. He blinked his dark eyes. He puffed out his caller once or twice, tentatively. He looked bewildered. Finally he said, “I don't know what's happening . . . we were all gathered for . . . and then . . . now we're here.”
Roar grunted as if that made perfect sense. He knew now was not the time for detailed explanations. What was needed now was someone to help these poor creatures out while they were still too lost and confused to think for themselves. In his most soothing voice, he said, “Okay. It's okay. What's your name?”
The toad blinked again and seemed to snap out of his near-trance. “Rico. I'm Rico.”
“Okay, Rico. Good. My name's Roar. What we need to do is get these frogs out of the rain, and see which of them are hurt or, you know . . . “
“Toads.”
“Eh?”
“We're toads, not frogs. But you're right.” Rico drew in a full breath of air into his caller and let out a huge, authoritative blap.
Nothing happened. At least the rain- both of the hydrous and amphibious variety- had stopped. Roar told Rico to keep calling. As his voice carried his kin would hear and draw near, and then they could come up with a more long-term plan. Roar started singing too, a song of comfort. Ree would hopefully hear and come help. She always knew what to do, even if raining toads was outside of her area of expertise.
Still very few toads were responding to Rico's call. Roar decided to approach them and point the way, and offer words of encouragement. That way he could get some inkling of how many were hurt. He had no idea what he would do about those who hadn't survived the fall.
With care and patience Roar went among the . . . what? Victims? What do you call a toad who has fallen from the sky? How does a toad become rain? Could anything become rain? What if some day spiders rained down? Or snakes? Or even himself? Weird.
His idle daydreams seemed to burst to life as suddenly the sky was again full of creatures. But there was nothing unusual about these. Birds! Roar had never paid much attention to birds before, as even the predatory ones left him alone. So his stomach lurched in shock when a beautiful green bird landed and casually scooped up one of the stunned toads with its long yellow beak. Roar realized the toads had no defence against this aerial assault.

______________________________________________________________________

I always have to remind myself that this is just the draft. Like an animatic or storyboard, it doesn't have to be totally polished just yet. Because in all honesty I don't really know if this is really going to be all that much about the Frog Chorus. I can imagine Rana finishing the story and Dart saying, "But what does that have to do with the Frog Chorus?"
"Not really anything but it has raining toads!"
Anyways, the toads are of the species Bufo periglenes, sadly thought to be extinct, but I hold out hope that there are yet some survivors. And the bird is an emerald toucanet, Aulacorhynchus prasinus.
Soundtrack: Singing in the Rain
Dedicated to: For the second week in a row, a Travis. This time it's Travis Hanson, creator of the ever-inspiring Storyteller print, and maybe a Poison Dart-related art too, soon.
Next Chapter

Fanart Friday: A Princess of Mars (Edgar Rice Burroughs)

Iron Man is opening today and I want to see it for sure. But what you might not know is the director, Jon Favreau, was slated to direct A Princess of Mars but then wound up doing Iron Man instead. So in an alternate universe, everyone would be lining up to see John Carter, Dejah Thoris and Tars Tarkas thundering across Barsoom today. But this will have to do instead- Jerry Carr and Ssava give us their versions of said trio:



Then we have a couple by George Sellas:


And my friend zimeta08 is one of the biggest ERB fans I know, here's a pair of her arts:

Happy Miner's Day! What makes it really happy for me is that I'm not mining today. Apparently we're having a Miner's Week later this month, but I have no idea what that entails. Presents and prizes every day as we go out to the pits maybe. Anyways, I created a new Flickr Photoset called Derelicts since I've always found twisted metal, old iron and ghosts of the machines to be fascinating, and beautiful in their own way. Some highlights:

Tonight, if you are one of the 700 or so people who watch CityTV News you might see me and Michelle explain why we waited until the last minute to file our taxes. Uh, doesn't everybody? This year marks the first year in Homie Bear History where I had to pay extra. Which sucks. I had visions of our refunds paying for the garage we want to build this summer. Or at least a 2X4 or 4 for it.
Partly I can blame myself. Not to get too deeply into my finances, I will say I didn't really contribute much to my RRSP, didn't start any home businesses and worst of all, I only gave a miserly 1% of my income to charity. Yeesh. That's gonna change this year, and not for the taxation benefits either.
Anyways, check out Ursula Vernon's Taxman. And if that wasn't cute enough for you, go watch the sleepy sun bear cub video at Zooillogix.

This:


and this:

used to be this:

Chapter 6 (Prologue)

"It was a good thing I saved your life, don't you think? I think so. I think it deserves breakfast in bed." Dart was still relaxing in the cup of the bromeliad when Callie came to rouse him.
Callie rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't be sleeping in if I were you. Your bed is about to become a lake."
"What do you mean?"
It started to rain. It does that fairly often in a rainforest, though to Dart it was something new and surprising. He climbed out of his shelter and gazed up at the sky in wonder, sticking out his long tongue to catch raindrops. He would have been content to do that all day but Callie dragged him into Rana's daytime hideyhole- beneath the roots of a banyan tree. Rana greeted them blearily. He looked tired, but well fed.
"Make yourself comfortable. Plenty of room for a couple of froglets," he said.
Callie was indignant. "I'm not a froglet! And I'm not sure what your definition of 'plenty of room' is, but it seems to be different than mine."
"You're all froglets to me, my dear. But come, we'll just have to get snug. And if we get a little wet, well, a little water never hurt a frog. Or a froglet."
Callie rolled her eyes again. But she and Dart pressed in closer.
Dart spoke up. "What's that smell?"
"It certainly wasn't me," Callie said, "Froglets could never make that much gas. Must've been Grandpa Rana here."
This time it was Rana who rolled his eyes. Dart laughed. What he had actually smelled was the rainforest in all its humid healthy decay. The rain was soaking the leaf litter, contributing to its rot and eventual renewal. He looked outside. Yesterday it had been a splatter of greens, blues, reds and yellows of flower and frog. Today it just seemed kind of grey. But Dart liked it. He liked feeling safe with his friends.
Somewhere in the distance a frog chorped. Rana responded with a surprisingly loud croak of his own. Dart didn't want to be left out so he inflated his little froglet throat sac and let out a mighty . . . squeak. Callie covered her mouth to hide a giggle.
Embarrassed, Dart said, "I guess I'm still too young to join the Frog Chorus, huh?"
"We're all part of the Frog Chorus, Dart," said Rana. "Look at the female frogs, who don't have vocal sacs with which to sing. The Frog Chorus is more than the individual voices and notes. It's more than a song. Did you know that a spider can sense vibrations on her web and know when she's caught prey and when it's just a fallen leaf?"
"No, I never knew that," said Dart." What's a spider web?" But Rana was still talking.
"The Frog Chorus is similar to a spider web in that sense. The voices tell us of the health of the frog community, all our cousins out there in the forest. Individuals come and go, but the cousins persist. And they must be protected. The Frog Chorus can tell us when there is harmony and when there is discord. So as you can see, it is a web, not to entrap, but rather to protect."
"Oh," Dart said. He didn't really understand how the songs and poems he had heard last night could be like spiders at all.
Callie, who had been watching Dart more than listening to Rana, could see that Dart was not exactly enthralled. And who could blame the little guy? Rana was a kindly gentlefrog, a mentor for many who dispensed his wisdom freely, but he had a tendency to ramble. But one thing he was good at was telling stories. A good story was worth a thousand erudite lectures. She cleared her throat and said, "Why don't you tell us a story, Gramps? Something that shows the Frog Chorus in action."
"Hmm, an excellent idea. I know a story that you will like, Dart, it's about two blue poison frogs like yourself."
Dart brightened at this. "Really? What were their names?"
Rana replied, "Roar and Ree. They're friends of mine."
_______________________________________________________________________________

Well, exposition is a necessary evil I guess, at least in this type of story. Hopefully your eyes didn't glaze over like Dart's did. Oh well. I keep having to remind myself that this is just a draft and I can worry about cleaning it up and making it better when (if?) I finish it.
Also, I need to come up with a frogular word for throat sac, because throat sac cracks me up too much and is not the best word ever when you're trying to take it seriously. Any ideas?
Soundtrack: Hmm, how about Lyra, Roger and Billy, track 4 from the Golden Compass soundtrack by Alexandre Desplat. It has a nice playful tone and is about three characters too!
Dedicated to my friend and neighbour (relatively speaking) Travis, soon to be a father, who also likes to explain sundry esoteric subjects at great length to any who will listen!
Next Chapter

The trailer for Clone Wars is out, in leaked, pirated grainyvision, but better than nothing.
And here's a pretty good action figure recreation of the duel between Darth Maul and Qui Gon and Obi Wan. Still my favorite lightsaber duel of all the movies. And this one is pretty funny.

I had to disable Haloscan, since they seem to be down the last few days, and they were causing some severe delays in page load times. I hope they come back, but if not I guess I will have to figure out how to enable Blogger's commenting system. I don't really like it, though, since you have to have a google account and do the typey typey funny word thing. Commenting should be easy and not a hassle, and Haloscan always seemed fairly painless.
Gabrielle, Whiskey River, sister-in-law, you all might want to do the same.
Update: gabrielle informs me that she has not had any problems at all. Weird! One difference between us is location- we are not on the same hemisphere. So if you are somewhere other than Canada and haloscan works, let me know by leaving a comment . . . oh right. Hmm.

It makes sense when you consider that Yoda and Miss Piggy are voiced by the same guy.
(Source)

Fanart Friday: Hoth!
Crazy blizzard at the mine today- I kept expecting snowtroopers and tauntauns and probe droids to show up. Since none did, here are some wampas and other Hothian fauna instead! Hopefully JimmyMcWicked's wampa doesn't eat Bloodhound-Omega's tauntaun!



And how about these two takes on the classic scene? First by Dantooine, second by RobbVision.



I'll leave you with a beautiful digital painting of the Battle of Hoth by Wicktone and something a little less literal from my pal Shane Cheffins.



I was trying out Safari the other day (meh) and I noticed that it doesn't give pictures a blue hyperlink border, so if you are a Safari user note that all FF thumbs are clickable to much bigger pics at the artists' site. And for that matter most of the pictures there have a fullsize option to click as well.

So I gave away LGJ, to a guy I work with- my buddy Robin's dad. His dad and my dad are coal miners from way back and us 2nd gen miners gotta take care of the forebears, right? He needed a new car badly and I wanted to sorta keep the Jellybean in the family. He fixed it all up and now it's in great shape again- probably got another 100,000 kms in it. I got 300,000 out of it after buying it from that first generation miner dad of mine who already had 50,000 kms on it. So I got my moneys worth and feel good about just giving it away. Plus I get rides home from the bus stop in it.
Anyways, for the two or three of you who are wondering where the latest chapter of Poison Dart is, I didn't get a chance to type up chapter 6. I wrote it a while ago but then went and rewrote it, and now I gotta make sure chapter 7 will be okay and . . . anyways. Next week. First I have to do some mining.
In the meantime you can check out wen-m's balloon froggie.

You can upload video to Flickr now, so I gave it a try. I had to install the latest version of Flash to see it, though, whereas with YouTube I don't think you need to worry about that sort of thing.
And, since we're on the subject, apparently I am not the only bear who knows some kung fu. Which is good since I actually don't know kung fu. But the kung fu Homie Bear over there on your right was made for me by a hitch-hiker I once gave a lift to, named Max. He was cool.
Have you seen the steampunk and WWII Star Wars custom figures on the Star Wars blog lately? I want some! They can teach you to kung fu!

Fanart Friday: Starbuck
Well, after rewatching nearly the entire series so my wife can get caught up, there's not much point in pretending I am interested in anything but BSG right now. So here's 5 0r 6 Starbucks for ya- go buy a vente latte!
First a pair each from Otis Frampton and Grant Gould, respectively:




And the above two are by LexiGeek and AmericanNinjaX.

With a name like Bear McCreary it comes as no surprise that he is a genius. He does the music for Battlestar Galactica. The haunting theme song- actually both of them since they changed it after Season 1. And then he outdid himself arranging Dylan's All Along the Watchtower. No one tell me why they were singing it way out there! I have my theories and they don't involve secret cylon codesongs, but no spoilers!

Chapter 5 (Prologue)

Every night there was a different monster. Ree didn't even pay attention to them anymore. What could be worse than what she'd already seen?
She was still trapped inside the lizard ribcage. There was hardly any flesh remaining over the skeleton, and it would have been an easy matter to escape except her leg was bound by an unfamiliar yellow slimy substance that emerged from the spinal column of the dead lizard, encasing her ankle. It was slightly elastic so Ree had some mobility, but she couldn't stretch it enough to snap it.
Ree thought she would be eaten. She had expected it. Instead the monsters brought her food- mostly ants, and mostly dead. The creatures came and went in silence. For the most part they left her alone, though occasionally they would scrape her back with various appendages. Claws, mandibles or stingers. Anything that was sharp.
Tonight's monster was a snake. Just a snake. No extra legs or missing eyes. No smell of decay. Ree realized it really was a snake rather than one of her captors. She watched as it sidled up to her prison. In the darkness it was hard to see its color, but there was no mistaking its eyes- they were shining red with reflected light. Its forked tongue flicked at the exposed ribs of the dead lizard, tasting and probing. Ree wondered what would happen if the snake ate her. Maybe the snake would die from her poison, but perhaps not before it pulled her to freedom. Probably she would die too, and even though that might not be much worse than her present situation, Ree wasn't ready to give up hope yet.
The snake had definitely picked up her scent now, or more likely sensed her body heat. It stared at her, absolutely still. Ree didn't know why it bothered getting all tense and wary- there was nothing she could do to stop it from doing whatever it wanted. Just for fun she flicked her tongue out at it and said, "Boo!" The snake jerked back in surprise but only increased its concentration on her. There was some consolation in knowing she would be the snake's last meal. And that whatever bizarre purpose her captors had for her would be foiled.
"Come on then, stinky," she said. The snake reared its head back to strike. Ree didn't close her eyes, though she wanted to. Prepared for what was in store, she was determined to face the snake with dignity. With a final breath, she braced herself. And then she saw the snake fall down, dead. She caught a glimpse of a misshapen clawed form dragging the inert corpse away.
The monster things had saved her life. Ree was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing.

____________________________________________________________________________

Just a short chapter this week. It was almost even shorter because when I opened my Google Documents page I discovered that the last couple of paragraphs had not been saved. Luckily I write a rough draft in longhand before transferring to computer. I call this version that I post the first draft, as I know there will be lots of work to do when I finally finish. Anyways.
This chapter is dedicated to the good people at Amphibians.org, who would never treat a froggy in the manner that Ree has been treated.
The soundtrack is Rusty Cage, either the Soundgarden original or Johnny Cash's amazing cover.
Next Chapter

Look! A new species of frog has been discovered, the first known lungless frog. Cool eh?
And you've probably already heard of the newly discovered flat-faced walking fish, but just in case you haven't.
And though there are no brand new species of cephalopods to tell you about, Mutley James is drawing a ceph-a-day in April. Remember when he did a creature a day? Because he's really cool. I can't figure out livejournal's interface to link to the creatures directly but they're from December 2007.

Well, it won't turn, it won't ramp down, it won't go very fast, but at least it'll go. Sometimes. We were supposed to get a brand new hydraulic shovel but it didn't pan out, and our even older 2100 gave up the ghost a couple of months ago so they decided to resurrect the venerable old 2800 that's been sitting partially dismantled for over a year. Sorta like a 50-year old Battlestar in drydock. That's okay because we're still running a couple of the haultruck equivalent of Viper Mark IIs! The above is an old photo I took about two years ago, back when it was only 28 years old. The other day I was operating it after it had been broken down for a few days, and it seemed to be running good. One of the accountants came up in the cab for the experience. She didn't believe me when I told her my Dad ran this shovel when he was 19.
Don't tell them about this one or they might get some crazy ideas:

You remember that bus crash that many of my coworkers were involved in. The Company for which I work donated 50 grand to the Hinton hospital as a way of saying thanks for helping out. Definitely a classy move, especially since the bus crash was not their fault- the buses are a service the Company provides for us by contracting a bus company. Not so classy was the bus company, which I shall call Boopy, sending letters to the injured passengers informing them they owed Boopy $650 to cover the cost of the ambulance rides they received. Seriously. Seems Boopy was underinsured and expects the people hurt when its bus crashed into a moose to help cover the cost.

Chapter 4 (Prologue)

"That was kind of stupid," Callie said. They had descended to the forest floor in thoughtful silence but now Callie had to release some tension.
"It worked, didn't it? And anyways you said he'd think I was poisonous."
"Yeah, but, now that I think about it, spiders might be immune to frog poison."
If Jumper was capable of turning green, he would have. He stared at Callie with a stunned look on his face. "Really?"
Callie relented. "Nah, I'm just joking. But you're not invulnerable and you'll live a lot longer if you remember that. Seriously."
Now Jumper looked crestfallen. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Aw, don't feel bad. You did it. Maybe even saved my life- if you hadn't been there, that spider might have snuck up on me and had Callie-cargot for supper. Maybe I should write a poem, an epic, Jumper Versus the Spider!"
"Yeah? You mean it?" Already Jumper was feeling better.
"Sure! Except you need a better name than Jumper. That's like calling you Frog."
"How about Spider Slayer?"
"Um, no. No verbs. Verbs don't make the best names."
"What's a verb?"
Callie ignored him as she pondered names. The best ones were simple and easy to remember. She had once met a pinkbelly toad named Atelopus Flavescens. It didn't exactly roll off the tongue, even an extra-long, poetry-spouting dexterous tongue like hers.
A deep voice interrupted her reverie. "How about Dart? It has the advantage of being a verb and a noun."
They whirled in the direction of the speaker and saw an enormous reddish frog with strange horn-like projections over its eyes. By reflex, Jumper made to spring at it, but Callie casually squished him to the ground with her hand.
Ignoring the struggling froglet pinned beneath her arm, she spoke to the newcomer. "Hello Rana."
"Callie. You can let your friend go- I think I am quite safe from him." Although the big frog's mouth was stuck in a permanent frown, giving him a grumpy-looking expression, there was a clear note of amusement in his gravelly voice.
"I was more worried about him, but you're right, of course." Callie released Jumper who did his best to brush himself off with dignity. A chunk of leaf stuck to his chin eluded him. Callie brushed it off with a wink. "Well, Jumper? What do you say? How does Dart sound to you?"
"Dart. I like it! I can be Dart," said the froglet.
The newcomer chorped his vocal sac. "Then it's settled. Pleased to meet you, Dart. My name is Rana."
Dart looked more closely at Rana. Aside from the immediacy of his size, and the odd horns above his eyes, Dart noticed the intricate pattern of his reddish skin- green and black stripes wound around his body in a curious arrangement. And he had a whole bunch of small warty bumps all over his back. The overall impression was that Rana was very, very old. But it was apparent Rana was waiting for Dart to say something. So he did.
'What are those horns over your eyes? And what about all those bumps on your back? How old are you? You're not going to eat us are you?"
"He might eat you if you keep asking so many question," Callie said. Rana just laughed- a deep, rumbly, relaxed sort of laugh that suggested wisdom and patience. His eyes blinked very slowly, as if he were sleepy. But Dart sensed he was far from sleepy.
"I will answer your questions, little froglet, if you answer mine- how did a blue poison frog come to have a red-eyed tree frog for a mother?"
Dart and Callie were momentarily speechless and then they were both laughing and getting in each others' way to explain how they had met. Less excitable frogs would probably have been able to tell from Rana's chortling that he already knew Callie was not Dart's mother.
"Callie's not my mom! Uh, the truth is, I've never met my mom. Either of my parents, actually. I don't know where they are."
"They weren't waiting for you when you Landed?"
"No, sir."
Rana exchanged a glance with Callie. "I see," he said. "Well, it's getting dark- I suggest we get ready for dark. You and Callie should get some rest. Myself, I'm only just starting my day, or night I should say. See that bromeliad behind you? Ideal for two young frogs like yourself to hide in overnight. I'll just be back here awaiting my breakfast."
Callie appraised the suggested plant- a vase-like leafy green hiding place with a small pool of water collected at the base. Perfect. "This will do nicely."
"Perhaps some poetry before you retire, Callie?"
"Of course." Callie turned to Dart and said, "Rana is one of the leaders of the Frog Chorus."
"Oh," said Dart. Before he could ask what that meant, Callie was already singing.
"Night comes to the rain forest
Time for us to sleep
We give the watch over to the Frog Chorus
Help us to dream deep
Sing your song throughout the night
And wake us at the dawn
We'll take over at first light
So the Frog Chorus carries on."
Dart climbed into the cup of the bromeliad. He fell asleep instantly, and dreamed of music and harmonies.
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Dedicated to Emily Weber, zimeta08 who made me that lovely Poison Dart banner!
Soundtrack: Frogs' Lullaby, Blue Rodeo. I have to admit I've never heard this song but a google of frog and lullaby tells me it exists!
Director's Commentary: Rana is an Amazonian horned frog, Ceratophrys cornuta. I tried to derive his name from the latin name, like Callie's, but Corny or whatever didn't cut it. So I chose Rana since Rana is a common genus name for frogs- though unrelated to C. cornuta. In real life Rana would be quite happy to eat Callie, though Dart would likely be safe since he's poisonous.
Next Chapter

The best fossils I ever found at the coal mine were some small bivalves, probably clams not too genetically dissimilar to present-day species. Coal of course is made of fossil plant matter, but actual fossil specimens are fairly rare. You do see the odd leaf imprint but that's about it. Not that we really have time to go snooping for fossils. My dad described something he saw to me once and my guess is it was a crinoid. And even though the coal comes from a Cretaceous formation, we have never found anything even close to dinosaurian, like this incredibly well-preserved plesiosaur they found in a different Albertan mine.

Nothing exciting ever happens at work
A wee bit of fun would be a great perk
When my boss sees me starting to get bored
He gives me a five-year safety award
But a better idea of what I deserved:
Finding a fossil, perfectly preserved
Something with plenty of claws and sharp teeth
A T-rex with maybe a club underneath
Something to prove that dinos were smart
that they liked to use tools and even make art
this kind of find would break the routine
of endlessly running the exact same machine