Tales from the not-so-very deep

Being that the past few days were warm and sunny, the pond has cleared and everybody who is alive is pretty much visible at this point.  The frogs are done sleeping and the fish are back to munching on algae again--a sure sign that spring has sprung.

The frog count is disappointingly low and I'm not sure what happened to everyone, but we have a mere two frogs--down from the eight we went into winter with.  Sigh.  I'm not sure if it was because of the snow, a hungry raccoon, or if they left me for better digs, but I'm sad to see such low numbers.  The only other time we were decimated like this was The Great Frog Disaster '08, when the majority of my frogs died in the skimmer.  Then a fungus went through the remaining frogs and I was left with only one or two.

Keeping the frogs and fish outside year round keeps them wild and we don't treat them as pets.  Nobody gets a name and it is the rare occasion that they come inside for any reason.  I brought one guy in the other day, but I released him on Friday.  He hung around for a day, but after a strong rain, he's gone.  I rescued him from the yard initially, so he may have been on his way anyway.  Sometimes they do that for various reasons--mainly breeding and territorial disputes.

I feel bad losing such great numbers, but the garden store and Mother Nature provide me with more tadpoles and frogs to replenish the population each year.  It's fun to look out some days and see new visitors who pop in--just like it is sad to see someone leave us too.  It's the gamble of the yard and the call of the wild--you never know why they come or why they leave.  I had someone at the reptile store tell me once "They have small brains and large legs--you figure it out." Yeah, I get it.

So, while we mourn the loss of so many, we have to celebrate the two that survived and stuck around.  They have ample opportunity to leave for better waters, but I guess they like our wee pond a bit.  I'll be out there in days to come, photographing and annoying the bajeepers out of them--but right now, I'm giving them a bit of space to warm their cold frog bodies. 

And while we celebrate those who survive, I'm happy to report that those wacky minnows are doing well. Even the babies made it through the winter, which always surprises me. 

No word on the snails yet.  I'll have to do a little digging in the mulch to find them, but they don't typically make it through the ice and snow.  That said, the spring after The Great Frog Disaster brought me one surviving snail, so you never know.  I'll keep you updated.

The pond offers so many tales--some good, some bad.  And while there is sadness and loss, it never fails to regenerate with life.  And it is that promise of life that makes it so wonderful to have in the yard.