What is it about a pond? It calls to me. Dare I say captures me. I can not just walk past. A pond is fascinating. It requires my inspection, my introspection. The abundance of life in and around it must be examined. The grasses beneath the surface and the lily pads on the surface team with life. Birds, insects, amphibians, algae, and, of course, fish. I remember well swimming and fishing in the ponds of my childhood. Glorious days of splashing, diving, and exploring. I would net small fishes and snails and put them in an aquarium at home in hopes of replicating the life of a pond that intrigued me.
What is it about bodies of water that mesmerize us so? That Space where water, land, and sky come together. That Space, I believe, resides deep within our being. We want to be near water whether ocean, river, lake or lowly pond. It’s in our DNA. The first air-breathing creatures, our ancestors, slithered out of some primordial ooze in a pond over 400 million years ago. Of course, like the air we breathe, water is essential for our survival.
I’ve spent almost all of my life living on or near the water. Be it the ocean, a small mountain stream, or like now, a pond. Not much of a pond really, maybe an acre. But bird life abounds. Egrets and herons fish along its banks. Anhingas, cormorants, and ducks visit seasonally. Kingfishers, Red Shouldered Hawks, and Ospreys call. A turtle lumbers up the pond’s bank and digs a shallow hole where she lays eggs while a crow watches from the oak tree above. Down the thief swoops and tries to steal her eggs before she gets back to the water’s edge. An alligator has been sunning itself on the bank across the way. Songbirds are starting their nesting rituals. Such is life on my pond.
Thanks for stopping by. I’ll leave you with my favorite haiku by Matsuo Bashō:
Old pond…
a frog jumps in
water’s sound
