You hear what seem to be various species of frog calling and singing in snatches.
Motorcycles, cars, and trucks carrying tomatoes from the adjacent greenhouses pass on the road some 20 metres away.
Fleeing with her infant children, Leto stopped not far from the present Kumluova. The herdsmen by the spring refused to give her water, fearing the consequences for themselves. Pressing on, still carrying the twins, an etymological fable tells that Leto was guided to Xanthos by a wolf, giving the region the name Lycia from lykos: wolf. When danger passed, Leto returned in her own time to the place of the spring, located the herdsmen and turned them into frogs, placing them forever outside the circle of human interchange, as they had her. At dusk, when people are returning home to sit talking and cooking around a fire in the yard, or to pray for their redemption, the herdsmen, as frogs, call back and forth across the flooded sanctuary on the edge of town, ignored by all except themselves.
Prefiguring Emily Dickinson's well known analogy between the poet and the frog, these calls reawaken the pain of exile and the life of one condemned to irrelevance in their own time
Crouching in the dusk by, as we become aware, the rotting carcass of a turkey entangled in the fence, looking out over the near black water of the pools, interrupted by pieces of fallen architecture, we think of Giorgio Agamben's melancholy poet,
who pays for his contemporariness with his life.. by dipping his pen in the obscurity of the present. But what does it mean to "see an obscurity".. ?