I remember when it was just a muddy hole. No, before that actually. When it was just a part of our property – a forgotten corner outside the fence, home to deer and thistles. Always wet – the alder and bog grass showed us that. And before that part of someone else’s property, a bigger property, back to a time when there was no property and this was the territory of a different people.
Then we paid for the big machine to come. To tear the ground. First a couple of holes, one OK-ish, but the other gushed water ‘like a firehose’, he said. And so the hole was dug, the landscape rearranged, a man made (or machine made) alteration designed to look natural.
We watched it slowly fill with water, wondering if it would ever reach to top. Then it was full, muddy water surrounded by a muddy mess!
But in the spring the green slowly crept back. Grasses, brambles, thistles (we pull those out). There wasn’t much in the pond that summer – some pond skaters and other insects
Then next summer, this summer – what a difference. We added some plants – water lilies, pond hyacinth, bulrushes. And the life came – more insects, nymphs, beetles. Dragonflies skimming the surface. And tadpoles. So many tadpoles borne from the spring chorus. We watched them grow, sprout legs and transform
And now – just now – the leaves and stems that border the water are covered in tiny frogs. Perfect green, brown and gold miniatures of the parents that sang through the night a few months before.
A thousand tiny frogs – a joy to behold.