By seven the porch steps were already a quiet classroom. The tree frogs lined the railing, greeted the wood, nodded to the geranium, and only then took one soft step up. No encore. The next frog waited until the leaf had finished nodding back.
We asked at the kiosk down the street. "I thought the railing was just damp," said a man with a paper bag of rolls. "Then a frog nodded to the geranium, and the pot made room as if it had been holding a seat."
The gardener left a note on the bottom step: guests may watch, but please do not hurry the next climber. By tea the porch already knew one polite way to the flowerpot.