My husband and I are spending the weekend at the Schoodic Institute, part of Acadia National Park in Down East Maine. This afternoon before dinner we walked through spruce woods to a small pond filled with singing frogs. They quieted when we showed up but eventually started up again, enveloping us in a music so loud we could feel the sound vibrate in our jaw bones. Our ears hurt by the time we left. Overhead, a raven chortled, used to it all.