One of my fondest memories as a kid was competing in frog jumping contests. My brother and I would spend hours catching frogs and training them to jump by gently squirting or poking them. We would secretly strategize our frogs of choice, based on size and athleticism, each convinced we knew the formula for a winning frog. I always chose the smallest ones; so much more agile. This past weekend, a few friends and I spent the day at Harper Falls which was hopping with small frogs. I was taken straight back to my childhood and scanned the shallow pools of water for any eyes popping out from the surface. I used to consider myself an Olympic frog-catcher but it seems I am a bit out of practice. I did manage to catch a few little Green Frogs and though I may have lost my magic touch, the joy of catching frogs is just as magical as ever.