You are well aware that I am struggling with my frog pond, 'cause I have moaned about it often enough, right?
Whether it is the freakish weather, or that I have a leak, I simply cannot keep it filled up to the water level I need to keep my Waterlily happy.
In February, sure, no problem then! By then it is full of leaves that have blown in from the trees along the road which runs in between the city moat and the allotments.
Here it looks alright, happy Waterlily, but only because I filled it from the water butt just before taking the photo. I cheated.
Same. This was July 2023.
This year that water butt was empty by the end of April, and it has not filled up since. I keep the tap permanently open now, so every measly drop that falls onto my greenhouse roof gets transported straight down the gutter, through the butt and into the frog pond. It keeps a couple of inches of water in there. Enough to keep my salamander and plants alive, but not enough for the Waterlily. She lives, but has not produced one single bud this year. Sod it.
Now here is a pond!
I visited the Open Garden event organised by Groei & Bloei, a gardening society in my country, and had the pleasure of walking around two ponds in one garden in Oostvoorne.
The lady of the house had 'done' the 2 hectare garden herself, she said off-hand, as if this was achieved between breakfast and lunch one day. She owns the field to the right as well, and has an arrangement with a neighbour who keeps his sheep there. "Just to make sure no-one gets it into his head to build there", she stated. The garden is only 4 years old, but it looked as if it had been there for 40. Huge trees ("I was lucky those trees were already there"), good landscaping, beautiful borders with gorgeous plants. The white and black ducks were 'pets', and helped her keep the garden free of slugs and snails. They live in a coop (pen?) next to the pond. It rained (it has finally started raining, folks), but did I care? Nope!
And here is the other one. You cannot spot it, but on the other side slightly to the left there is a boardwalk for lounging on and a swim ladder, you know, to swim to this pebbled beach? And then lounge some more?
She has been very clever to oh so tastefully repeat the planting on both sides of this beach. A variety of high and low Echinaecea. My camera (old mobile phone) does not do justice to the jewel colours of those flowers. I could have dug them up and taken them to Hunky Dory, wet leaves and all. In fact, if it had not started to pelt down with rain a moment later, I could have stretched out on that beach and stayed for an hour.
What a garden! She used the dug out soil of those ponds to make mounds, on top of which there were fruit trees. So the garden was uncharacteristically hilly (no hills around this delta), and just restful lawn, colourful borders and the two huge ponds, surrounded by age old beaches and willows.
Paradise!
To me, with my tiny flat and my parcel of allotment, and my faulty frog pond, it showed how other people manage to live. Am I envious? Truthfully? A teensy weensy bit. Just of the garden, mind, not the lifestyle. But hey, I have this view every morning.
It is the dammed river Brielse Maas, re-named Brielse Meer (meer = lake), that flows at the end of my street (until it meets that stupid dam).
My little patch of prairie. Those grasses become waist high! Occasionally I spot a roe deer, or if I am extremely lucky a beaver. They cross from the Brielse Meer to the small waterway near it, to nibble on the trees there. I once came across one who had just climbed out of the Meer and was strolling along the grass path, not a care in the world. Until it saw Puck and me, and then legged it to safety. And believe me, a beaver is large and it can run! My dog was so flabbergasted that she did not even bark, just stood there.
