![]() I got outside in time to see him lower a plank of wood into the water, and catapult some water logged creature out.Ī squirrel looking more like a drowned rat high-tailed, or more like drag-raced himself out of there. ![]() While I got my shoes on, he ran to do water rescue. “Phil,” I called, “something fell in the pond and can’t get out.” But then I saw another splash and yet another. So, when I saw the splash from my window, I figured a branch or something fell in. That hasn’t worked well either.Īnd so, my husband has come up with creative ways to drain it, and yes, his first attempts at syphoning were a little uncouth, but the method has grown in sophistication and wisdom since. We’ve tried to make a way for kids to climb onto something so they could get out if they fell in. The pond is shaped like a big bowl, rounded on the inside. It left gapping holes even I could fall through. That worked for about a week until the cover blew off. What it needs for repairing is drowned under other more pressing things needing to be fixed. And the smallest grandkids seem to love balancing on its edges. Younger ones want to sail sticks and throw rocks in it. My older grandkids picture a hot tub there someday. I’m alway nervous of little children falling into it. It fills with rain, then sings with a toad chorus loud enough to wake us up at night. ![]() What are the chances a snake might want a siesta in the cool water. Since we moved into the house, “the pond,” as our former owners called it, holds a bit of terror to me. It had fish in it once, my neighbor says. Now it is a nonfunctioning fountain of gross. A water feature which worked once upon a time before we moved here sits smack dab in the center. Water splashed up from the little “pond” in our back yard, as if a fish slapped its surface. This morning I chanced to look out my bedroom window.
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