In the era before smartphones,
a time prior to sharing photographs 
instantly as if it took no more effort 
than a casual hello 
exchanged with a stranger, 
you rode in a tour van 
through La Fortuna on your way 
from Arenal volcano
back to San Jose and almost went past 
a lone tree spreading its branches 
in a field beside the road’s shoulder. 

But the driver pulled over and stopped. 
Climb out of the van to see 
what has the guide excited.
You don’t understand what’s happening
until a frog leaps from a leaf 
then lands on your chest. 
Their bright orange feet cling 
to your T-shirt like honeysuckle flowers. 
Skin green as jade, eyes red as lava,
they have a muscled body 
about the size of your thumb –

your naïve thumb, 
which has not known how it feels 
to stroke a small, illuminated screen
expressing approval or disdain
for someone’s image 
within a clamor of data. 

The guide explains this tree 
shelters dozens of these frogs,
the slick sheen under each leaf 
being fertilized eggs. When they hatch,
it will rain tadpoles into puddles
collected around the trunk. 
No algorithm produced 
this encounter – your luck to have it
due to the guide’s insight, 
thrilled to point out for other people
a trove of life you might have overlooked.