The Pond

The Pond is five years old. Wowzers, I had no idea when I began shovelling it would take on such a life. It was April and had finished raking, looking about the garden and thinking this has become boring. I ran for a shovel and paced the property thinking "what to do, where to dig". Aha! and I started. It took two months from start to finish. Negotiating shrubs, rocks, snow!, thoughts. Twas the wee thingies, what will I border it with?, trying o so hard to smooth the liner in an uneven hole, warmer temps, electrical or not?, where to place the steps?, the average ponderings when building a pond.

Me thinks I spent more time fussing with the border then anything else. It joins the patio, in fact one can step right into it or sit and refresh your toes in the water. I bought smaller slabs to match the patio and worked placing them around the edge. Standing back I noticed they were a tad brighter then the ole patio and it just wouldn't do. Sooooooo after a thorough soaking of the new stones I rubbed soil into the stones and left them for a week before hosing. Worked like a charm!

Then came the decision to wire it or not. I chose not. I prefer the sounds of nature, be they silent or the trills of spring peepers. There is so much noise in our made world that I need to relax while pondering. There is no fountain, no continuous flow just The Pond. Resident froggies and dragonflies keep the skidders at bay. Tis lit with twinkle lights interwoven thru the hedge and the odd firefly blincking on and off in the still of a warm summers eve.

Being in the shade those delightful water lilies won't bloom. However the floaters...Water Lettuce, Lotus and Fairy Fern take on life providing a resting place for tired froggies and even the odd Sparrow searching for a drink. They float about steered by the breeze intermixed with bubbles of silver and gold.

O the visitors The Pond has welcomed! From Fang the bullfrog who came after me twice though his rampages ceased when I left the red T-shirt inside and when he met with a high kick; and Lawrence of LongToes who spent the day in the ivy pot only venturing out when night fell; to Torrance the young snapping turtlette, journeying to the safety of The Pond from the river only to be taken to a more suitable environment and to this day I still think of her when I drive by the river; and there is Frogue, a rather proud froggie who spent the summer on a chair overseeing The Pond neverminding being pulled up to the table for dinner; the wee froggies Fox and Fhill, raised from tadpoles, who are thriving this year. Of course with the good is the bad as Rockii the Raccoon finds his way to The Pond. Scatterings of shells and bubbles in the garden are signs of his visits.

The Pond freezes early grabbing plants and creatures in its icy grip. The only joy is the ice providing a rink for winter birds arriving at the feeder. The mourning doves attempt landing, skid across with wings which fail to slow them, crashing into each other like bowling pins.

Then Spring arrives and The Pond thaws. Early April it is drained and begone plants scooped out. Sides are scrubbed as is the bottom sand. With luck, one or two froggies will be uncovered and met with "ooooo welcome to Spring but I see you're not ready so I'll cover you with your sandy blanket". A few weeks later, up they pop smiling. I search for plants, tidy up, await arrivals and so another year of enjoyable pondering begins at The Pond.