Yesterday I decided to fight back against the advancing army of bullrushes in the pond. They have been steadily taking over the shallow end since the spring and making our shortage of water in the pond even worse, in my opinion. I wanted to give the lily pads and other plants a better chance to thrive, and with the water so low, it was the most opportune time to take action. I donned my Wetskins (left over from my dingy sailing days), found a plank to stand on so I wouldn't sink irretrievably into the mud bottom, and started yanking the six-foot plants out by their heavy roots. It was quite pleasant work where the pond edge has a few mint plants -- and that should tell you something about the invasiveness of the bullrushes, even the mint can't compete without help! A couple of hours later, the battle was over (but not the war). There was one defiant young sprout waving at me from the middle, but the rest were pretty much compost. There are some healthy specimens still bordering the pond, too, but the main area is clear for now.

Today Bob called the water truck and it arrived early this afternoon to bring the level up by 3300 gallons, infused slowly so as not to stress the fish. When it was done, they were practically dancing with excitement, even at the shallow end. I saw goldfish with markings I had never seen until now. The frogs seem a bit resentful, I think, as they liked to hide in the bullrushes, but perhaps they'll come around when the lily pads start multiplying.

Posted by lynda at 10:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The last few mornings when I have been out with the dogs, I have enjoyed the soft scent of milkweed from the field across the street. I must have known about this as a child, but taken it in subconsciously as part of the richness of summer. Now it is a welcome surprise, subtle like the pinkness of the flowers.

I made a more banal discovery a few days ago, while I was madly hunting through my office for a crossover cable, something I knew I had but need only once every couple of years. I was horrified to unearth a computer bag with a handful of unopened mail in it, dating from our house move in mid-December. The bills had been covered eventually, and the bank statement I was glad to see, but, oh dear, the Christmas card with a personal note in it, which I had obviously not acknowledged -- ouch. I will make amends to this dear friend, who will surely understand, but I will also renew my efforts to shed more stuff, more of the things that obscure what I value.

Posted by lynda at 11:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)