187. Pond life

Over the last couple of weeks, I have become less inclined to post new blogs. No mystery why: the brighter light and sunshine is pulling me outside into the garden, onto the bike or on foot into the vicinity. Or cajoling a drive to the coast. Sitting at the computer is much less tolerable, unless work calls.

The autumn and winter bring out my introvert. It is the ideal time to reflect upon and write about the past and present. Without doubt, the blogs have helped stave off the SAD I encounter from November to March. Major success, boxes ticked. It’s pleasing to have found this therapy. But it feels as if the need is dropping as the days lengthen. So – unless there are a glut of wet days – long gaps between posts is a possibility until the autumn equinox. Photographs now and again, perhaps. A field near sunset, or a church passed while cycling.

We’ll see. 365 blogs remains the aim. Maybe with a spring 2020 finish. Who knows.

There is a major near-term task to fill some of the time. Our fuse box began to trip every few minutes last weekend, and we identified the ‘outbuildings’ switch as the pointer to the fault. The electrics on the fish pond pump were the culprit. As my landlord pondered his options, I suggested the ‘win-win’ of finding a home for the fish, and disassembling what has become a dilapidated structure.

Our electricity bill reduced, and his onus to supply the fish pellets and maintain the pond disappears. He went for it immediately (as we had hoped and planned for some time). “It’s one less thing I have to worry about,” he said.

More importantly, we get to redesign a garden feature that has become a bit of an eyesore. But before that can happen, there is some hard work ahead, in disposing of the various materials and finding uses for the 20 wooden sleepers that are the core of the structure. Some may be rotted beyond utility.

When it is reinvented, and Maureen has splashed her colours and imagination around the void to come, we should have an improved view and new seating area.

The surprise is that I miss the fish. Watching them come to the surface for the daily pellet ration. Or basking near the surface in the sunshine. It made me happy to look after them, and see them survive each winter. Never underestimate the (two-way) value of nurture.

There were originally about 30, but we must have removed about 70, mainly goldfish. There were some interesting hybrids of carp and goldfish. A couple of the carp were huge. The whole catch now moves with far more freedom and space in a much bigger pond over at Felsted.