One of my favorite smells in the world is pond muck, the rich decay cleansing and filtering, and the new earth a sensory delight taking me back to my single-digit years when I’d muck about in my grandparent’s lake looking for whatever I might find. It might just be those deep-seated sent triggers that keep compelling me to put a pond in where ever get transplanted to. Looking back, I’ve had one for almost twenty years, and I’ve lived in three houses in that time.
It’s more than the sound of water that compels me, it’s the hint of swamp that I catch when it rains, grounding me with the memory of earth and sky and water mixing in equal proportions to create life.
My current pond is actually the second on this hopefully final property, moved and expanded from the side yard to the back yard when the view out my office changed. It’s just about done now, and critters have moved in, some by chance, (Frogs. Yay!) and some by design. The turtle is a new edition, “rescued” by Guy on one of his rides as it tried to cross the road. Usually he just moves them to whatever side they are headed for, but this little guy was small enough to fit into his water bottle, and so he brought them home for me–best present ever since the five pots of moss he bought unexpectedly last month.
It’s not as if he’s in a cage, so the moment he decides he is moving on, he can, but I’m hopeful that he stays. He’s got a place to sunbathe to raise his temperature, and places to hide, and lots of friends for eating if he so chooses, but until he leaves, I will be enjoying his steely gaze and quick splash into the water when I walk by. Here’s hoping!
(Yes, I know reptiles can carry diseases. The bottle has since been tossed, and hands have been scrubbed.)