Pond Life - Spring 2014

This spring, five ducklings and six goslings seem to be the haul that avoided the neighborhood crows and cats. This morning, the goose family was storming our bank to eat grass and flowers. As the photographer came on the scene, the geese steamed off a respectable distance and then pappy could be seen standing guard.

 

The pond's goose brood last year was seven, but it was a month later.

June Pond

The pond transforms in summer. Most species left by April. Mallards and Canada geese are finishing with their broods and the summer patchiness of pond scum gives a new look, an acquired taste.

Fish, species unknown, have been spotted, about 8" long I'd guess. As we watched, one of a group of four suddenly shot up and bit the foot of a mallard sitting on the surface. The duck squawked and flew a foot or two before resuming its nap.

We have a bullfrog that serenades day after day. Fortunately, it is not too loud inside, so sleep is not disturbed.

A group of four or more swifts came a couple of weeks ago and were here for several days, constantly flitting from seemingly nowhere to our blue spruce, then back out in an endless looping. Never did get a good look at one before they left.

Today a great blue heron swooped in and dipped its feet in the pond, then at the sight of the big meanie coming its way, swooped off again down the pond.

 For anyone needing some additional interest in their lives, we recommend they adopt a pond somewhere.

Spring Comes To Cherry Pond

I had been adding new material to my original Cherry Pond post, but decided to bring the new material up to this new post.

The pond greeted us on the first day of spring with a frosting surprise.

I briefly thought of joining this year's class action suit against that fraudulent expert witness Punxsutawney Phil, who appears to have pulled a fast one on us this year. However, most snow melted by sundown, so we'll let Phil off the hook once again.

Also that night, the snow seemed to bring a newcomer to the pond area, the first owl I've heard since moving here. It was an 8-hoot owl (say 'who cooks for you' twice, with slight emphasis on you), also known as a Barred Owl, an eastern newcomer to the area that is becoming a threat to our native Northern Spotted Owl. He was quite vocal between 11PM and midnight, and I fell asleep to repeated calls every 30 seconds or so. But apparently, no female answered, so his was a one night concert.

An April surprise brought a Canada Goose to the railing of our deck, remaining there for at least 15 minutes and allowing me to open the door ten feet away and take photos. I thanked the goose, and it flew off to answer the call of some geese at the other end of the pond.

The goose had attracted my attention via a repeated knocking noise, waking me and beckoning me to get out of bed and answer the back door. I truly am a fully rational being, but a primal, shadowy thought, from seemingly nowhere, flitted across my consciousness: what spirit associated with this location might have returned to visit in the shape of a goose? I can easily imagine how my prehistoric Germanic ancestors were motivated to devote considerable spiritual energy toward such augury, often involving birds. Will such workings of the human brain ever be fathomed? Omen, omen, speak to me; should I play the lottery?

A further surprise came that evening, when the Barred Owl's return was noted, even closer than before, so that Debby could hear it also.