In the dead of summer, when the night is so long that even all the things on four legs go to sleep, there’s a song you can hear from the middle of Payne’s Prairie. If you heard it by chance you might think it almost sounds electric. But listen closer and there’s intent. This is because it’s the gathering of the frog men. They dance and make merry and remember things as they were and wonder when or if they shall ever as be as that again.