Last week, as I was swimming past a mass of unhatched frogs' eggs, I noticed something rather strange. I had been patrolling these eggs for about a month or so to make sure they would all hatch, you see, so it was a common occurrence. What was so strange this time was that half of the eggs were completely gone. It was almost as if they had been torn from their mass and separated altogether. I then noticed a rather odd taste in the water, and it seemed to be rather metallic and foul. Following the taste, I swam downward, using my wings to propel me to the bottom of the lake. What I saw there made me very sad.
A tin can had been tossed into the lake, you see, and its jagged edges cut through the eggs and buried them underneath, at the lake's bottom. I tried to move that can away, mustering all the strength I could to lift it. I managed to turn it over and saw a few eggs contained healthy, living baby tadpoles still. Sadly, though, the ones around the edges were all dead. In all, the can killed half of the baby tadpoles. They will never see it to adulthood and never know any life outside of the pond.
As you can imagine, I would have cried if I hadn't been immersed in water already. Instead, I brought the living egg mass back to the main one. I could sense that some of the young ones were sick from the can's appearance, so all I could do is take them home. The dead ones I buried under the lake.
This lake may be in a public, city park owned by humans, but it doesn't mean that you should throw things into it like you own the place. This makes me very sad and very angry. Please put your trash in a wastebin or, better yet, recycle it. Don't throw it in my home.
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Well, I AM a water sprite. What else do you expect me to write on? :|
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Merissa the Water Sprite
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