Behold -- here is why I incessantly dream of rain, talk about rain (or the lack of it) and am on my knees for rain. The pond has shrunk to a large puddle of green down in the lowest corner. This is what two years of well-below average rainfall does. Since the water in the pond comes entirely from the runoff from the hill above it (also on our property), after several dry winters the pond becomes a sad looking crater lined with dried, cracked mud. This has happened twice in the 20 years I've lived here. All the lifeforms that congregate in or around the pond either die or leave. Frogs, fish, turtles, dragonflies and the like are now gone. There are fewer birds too. Even the trees that line the banks are suffering. We need rain. One nice, juicy wet winter would do the job.
|Methuselah and Afrikaner standing at the back door|
Now, every evening, Methuselah and Afrikaner are herded into stall #3 of the barn to spend the night in a bed of straw. It's yet another chore that needs doing, but such a relief when I slide that stall door shut and know that they are both safe for the night. This means that we now have two sets of geese to put to bed every night. I'd like to consolidate them, but they don't always get along with each other so I hesitate closing them in a small space together. However, maybe we'll give it a try this weekend -- it's going to be a while before those rains work their magic and the pond fills.