I began reading The Dunwich Horror last night and he makes mention of piping bullfrogs, and it sent me down this intense nostalgia trip over how well I know (and miss) that sound since leaving the Midwest. Who would have thought all those swampy BUNKS and GUNKS and BwwAaahhHhh-bwAaaAaahh-BwwAaaHhhh-BwwAaAaaaahhs would become such a cherished part of my past?

Gotta get me a plane ticket next Spring and go bullfrog hunting.