The sensitive species, which a lot of amphibians are thought to be, are in short supply. We have a couple of listed species - the California red-legged frog and the California tiger salamander - and they've largely been chased out of the valley bottoms where humans like to live.

They have a sort of opportunistic component to their life history pattern that's much more flexible than others.

Amphibians are one of the latest groups of organisms to show us changes are afoot on the landscape. They're susceptible to a lot of things that would be good for us to pay attention to. If you're losing them, you start to look at why. Is the landscape changing, and for what reasons? And are those reasons going to affect us, too?

In the past I thought I could do a lot with my fastball and changeup, ... From last year on I've been a little more open. I realize to be a very successful pitcher in the league I should develop a few more pitches.

Emptiness felt like a living thing. A parasite growing in the center of your chest, somewhere behind your heart, taking every ounce of warmth and light and happiness and consuming it until there's nothing left. Emptiness feels like exhaustion, like there's no reason to fight, no reason to take another breath, no reason to try to survive. But emptiness also feels like freedom. Because it doesn't just take the good, it takes the bad, too--the anger, the bitterness, the pain--and when it's done, it leaves you with just you. A cold, shell-like echo of yourself, but still you.

Such dreams provide this temporary illusion of a life that has meaning.