We were sitting close to the water.
Not that we were at the beach or sitting on the edge of a fountain.
It was a big pond, at least this how I would call it.
The quirking of the frogs, if that is a pronunciation of the sound they are making, sometimes interupted our conversation.
They were not in that pond we were sitting at, however they were in a little water, close to that.
Perhaps it was something that they wanted to say, however it was only the loudness of their sounds that could come that far.