The Pond, the Bog and the Mound
To be an accurate historian, I suppose I should discuss these areas chronologically. Though they are more a chronological entry idea-wise than time wise. I mean, as they dug the pond, they "built" the mound, and as the sides of the pond rose, the first good rain, I'm sure, created the beginnings of the bog. Anyway, for some reason, my predecessor decided that he wanted a pond. I really can't give you much of an idea as to its size being lousy at estimating area, but suffice it to say: not very big--an old country pond. It sits, at least the western corner of it, right in front of the house. My mom's viewing window looks right out at about half of the pond. Not that she can see it. It's low and surrounded by tall grass and cattails. You'll have to come and walk around it in order to "see" it. When I first arrived, it had a "fountain" right in the middle. But when I compared my fountain-off electric bill with my fountain-on electric bill, the fountain became a memory. (Anyone out there want a pump for a fountain for their pond? Come and get it! It's free! Bring wading boots.)
The previous owner claimed that he had fish in there at one time but that they were devoured by a mink. My sister Chloe has tried a couple of times to introduce gold fish to the pond, but the success of that effort has not been fully proven. But we're hoping. I would love to put some game fish in there as well--bluegill, bass--so that when the world-wide famine hits, I'll have a meal or two. And a pond with fish could probably entice my fisherman friends to drop by on occasion. (I can remember when I lived in Bainbridge, Georgia, for a couple of years, and we would go out to the pond behind my "landlord" Gene's place and catch dinner once a month or so. Deep fried bluegill--they called them brim--homemade hush puppies, and French fries. My mouth is watering. But that's another story for another time, perhaps.) This pond does have plenty of frogs, a couple turtles, and a black water snake of some sort. The small green heron drops by in the spring to eat tad poles and frogs I guess. A pair of mallards will drop by once in awhile, but they never move in. The tall grey-blue heron has been by on occasion to check out the menu. The red-winged blackbirds nest here every spring and congregate here by the hundreds--literally--before they migrate South. In the pond itself I do have a couple of water lilies, one yellow, one red.
Around the pond is a different story. I have two forsythia--still small but blooming--right across from each other. A gorgeous river birch. It has grown rapidly and is loveliest in the winter when its bark shows. There's also a humongous pussy willow on the eastern side that starts turning silver in mid-February. It, too, is gorgeous! It's turning into a tree! There's a sixty or seventy foot tall "regular" willow on the same side, a weeping willow on another side, a small mountain ash on another side (don't tell the beetles), and three Rose of Sharon on the western side. My predecessor put four white crab apples around the pond--stunning in the spring--a redbud, and two pines. In addition, in the spring there are a few iris, a few crocus, and fifty or sixty daffodils. Trust me; it is magnificent in April and early May when all these beauties are blooming. Ahhh. Just to think of it makes me long for spring, and we haven't even done winter yet!
Later in the year there are a couple of day lilies that have just started to expand--a yellow and an orange clump. The Rose of Sharon don't bloom until August--white, blue, rose, and pink. And there's a hibiscus that blooms about the same time as well. The last pond beautification is . . . what? Oh, sorry. The water lilies start blooming in June. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, the last pond beautification is a flower bed. It blooms all season--crocus, daffodils, iris, dwarf iris, hardy geraniums, tulips, butterfly plants, hyacinth, lilies, balloon flowers, cosmos, asters, morning glories--you get the idea. Lots of variety. Lots of color, late March right up to frost. Oh, did I mention that there are half-a-dozen planters around the pond as well--filled with annuals?
The pond also is home to the Sentinel--the giant, dead guardian of Iten's Acres. Some of its limbs have crashed to earth--you'll have to step over a couple of them as you traverse the pond, the branches are woodpecker pocked, and the honey bees have a hive in a hole almost at the very top. It is magnificent in its starkness. Difficult to visualize I suppose, but when you see it--camera worthy in its majesty. I assume that the digging of the pond caused its demise. I put a bluebird house on its trunk. Makes it a tad more picturesque if I don't say so myself, but the bluebirds don't like the neighborhood, I guess. When I first put it up, they checked it out, but no homesteaders yet. At the base of the tree each July are a number of trollius, tall, bright yellow, lovers of wet places, wild flower inhabitants of Ohio. They are not afraid to compete with the other beauties in the area. And they shouldn't be.
Conclusion: the bench by the pond was a marvelous idea. You could spend hours there any day and have your "fill" of the beautiful, from the winged creatures, to the pond denizens, to the flowering trees and shrubs, to the flowers perennial and annual, to the different textures of the trees and their leaves, to the old master Sentinel wondrous in its death. Come. Have a seat. Join me. Rest awhile.
(This is a long entry! Sorry. I'll muse about the bog and the mound on another day.)
The Pond, the Bog, and the Mound II
The Bog, "child" of the pond, is a swampy area of tall grasses that
runs along the eastern side of the pond--maybe five yards wide--and
then expands into a considerable larger area between the pond and the
front of the Acres. In addition, it has a very miniscule little
"sister" between the house and the pond--a very, very, very, small area
that is, nevertheless, boggy most of the year. Actually, at one time
the bog connected with the mound area, but I have separated them with a
path for my walking Iten's Acres treks.
When I first arrived, I was not certain about the "value" of the bog. Early during the first summer I bush hogged the area and talked some with my neighbor Aaron about putting in pipes to drain it. The next summer I just let it grow. Ahhh. A wise non-decision. You know, that if you have to do something, but don't do something, you've actually done something. Now, I love strolling between the pond and the bog with the tall grasses forming a roofless "tunnel" that towers over my head. Serene. Honest. I would love to cut another path right through the middle of the bog for my walks, but it's probably too wet to do that. Perhaps someday I can build an elevated boardwalk for my journeys.
Anyway, I find its wildness appealing. And the creatures love it as well. I hope Aaron doesn't disown me as a neighbor, but I wouldn't dream of draining it or cutting it down now. I do admit, however, that I haven't had a great deal of success finding flowers and shrubs that will thrive there. God has planted some of His favorite wildflowers in there: trollius, bluets, monkey grass, cardinal flowers, to name a few I can identify. I've tried some others: Japanese iris, Siberian iris, camassia, and this fall as an experiment I put a leopard lily out there because it was "advertised" as liking wet feet. Next year will tell. Only the camassia have bloomed consistently--lovely bluish purple flowers. The others are alive, but inconsistent in their flowering efforts. Some years, yes; some years, no. I often flip through my Ohio wildflower book taking note of the flowers that like wet areas and wonder if God will add them in the future or if somewhere there is an Ohio wildflower store where I could purchase such beauties. So far, I just "window shop" and let my imagination hope. Yet, even if I never find more flowers or shrubs that will thrive in the bog, I will be well content with God's additions--flowers and grasses.
The little bog area on the house side isn't doing much right now either--except for tall grasses and a spindly excuse for a pine tree. For the first few years here it was alive with a huge bouquet of dark purple Siberian iris. Every year there were more of them, rising from the tall grasses in their magnificent color. My cousin Eddie painted a gorgeous rendering of them from a photograph my mom had of the area. It adorns the wall in my living room right now. In fact, I'm admiring it at this very moment as it sits just above my computer. The problem is that last year the number of flowers decreased significantly, and this summer, nada. Nary a one. I have no idea what happened. Since the area is boggish, the tall grasses have always been there so it shouldn't be a matter of competition. The scraggly pine tree has been there all along as well. A mystery. Sad mystery. I'm going to mow the grasses and cut down the pine--it shades a garden I have behind it anyway, and I want more sun on that flower bed. Hopefully, I will find some iris under all the grass, and they can be encouraged to resume their beautiful display. If not, I'll always have the painting, But I would love the real thing too. Greedy of me, eh?
Behold the bog. It survived the thoughts of destruction and has become a favorite walking ground for chubby old bald men. Ahhh, the power of a non-decision
When I first arrived, I was not certain about the "value" of the bog. Early during the first summer I bush hogged the area and talked some with my neighbor Aaron about putting in pipes to drain it. The next summer I just let it grow. Ahhh. A wise non-decision. You know, that if you have to do something, but don't do something, you've actually done something. Now, I love strolling between the pond and the bog with the tall grasses forming a roofless "tunnel" that towers over my head. Serene. Honest. I would love to cut another path right through the middle of the bog for my walks, but it's probably too wet to do that. Perhaps someday I can build an elevated boardwalk for my journeys.
Anyway, I find its wildness appealing. And the creatures love it as well. I hope Aaron doesn't disown me as a neighbor, but I wouldn't dream of draining it or cutting it down now. I do admit, however, that I haven't had a great deal of success finding flowers and shrubs that will thrive there. God has planted some of His favorite wildflowers in there: trollius, bluets, monkey grass, cardinal flowers, to name a few I can identify. I've tried some others: Japanese iris, Siberian iris, camassia, and this fall as an experiment I put a leopard lily out there because it was "advertised" as liking wet feet. Next year will tell. Only the camassia have bloomed consistently--lovely bluish purple flowers. The others are alive, but inconsistent in their flowering efforts. Some years, yes; some years, no. I often flip through my Ohio wildflower book taking note of the flowers that like wet areas and wonder if God will add them in the future or if somewhere there is an Ohio wildflower store where I could purchase such beauties. So far, I just "window shop" and let my imagination hope. Yet, even if I never find more flowers or shrubs that will thrive in the bog, I will be well content with God's additions--flowers and grasses.
The little bog area on the house side isn't doing much right now either--except for tall grasses and a spindly excuse for a pine tree. For the first few years here it was alive with a huge bouquet of dark purple Siberian iris. Every year there were more of them, rising from the tall grasses in their magnificent color. My cousin Eddie painted a gorgeous rendering of them from a photograph my mom had of the area. It adorns the wall in my living room right now. In fact, I'm admiring it at this very moment as it sits just above my computer. The problem is that last year the number of flowers decreased significantly, and this summer, nada. Nary a one. I have no idea what happened. Since the area is boggish, the tall grasses have always been there so it shouldn't be a matter of competition. The scraggly pine tree has been there all along as well. A mystery. Sad mystery. I'm going to mow the grasses and cut down the pine--it shades a garden I have behind it anyway, and I want more sun on that flower bed. Hopefully, I will find some iris under all the grass, and they can be encouraged to resume their beautiful display. If not, I'll always have the painting, But I would love the real thing too. Greedy of me, eh?
Behold the bog. It survived the thoughts of destruction and has become a favorite walking ground for chubby old bald men. Ahhh, the power of a non-decision
No comments:
Post a Comment