Waiting for the rains to come

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

 All of our waterbirds sleep out on the water at night, safe from predators.  They have a choice of floating, or getting up on an anchored raft or sheltering in the willows on the island we built.  None of that is of any use now so last week we brought the two older geese up to the house and locked the gate to keep them here.  They aren't too happy about this, but last time I waited too long and lost a goose before I realized how unprotected they were.

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.