Passing life comes back to one pond.

A week or so ago, Stephanie spotted that we had an otter in the Black Pond in the woods. It was busy eating the dead carp, one by one.  Where the otter came from I do not know, nor where he has now gone...

The two carp that I bought all those years ago - in the hope that they would keep the pond at the Farmhouse buildings clear of weeds and other growth - were struggling when Stephanie first arrived.   The water was more like mud and not very deep mud at that. Stephanie announced that they had to be removed and put into the larger pond - the Black Pond in the Woods - that ran along the main roadside. 

 In knee high wellie boots, with a laundry basket as a tool,(see pic) she fished the carp out, one by one, and carried them in a wheelbarrow to the upper pond.

                                                  This is the Black Pond in the Woods

The carp took well to the transfer but promptly slid down into the mud so that we could not really see them.The occasional piece of stale bread would bring them to the surface but not much else did.

Sadly Stefanie did not manage to get a picture of the otter that was - so helpfully -  tidying up the Black Pond.  We do not know from where he came - or why, perhaps he could smell dead fish?  Nor do we know to where he - sorry, perhaps 'she' - has gone.

I have always been curious - and never got a good reason - why the buildings of La Chaise were built  nowhere near any fresh water springs.   Once I did employ a 'diviner' to look for springs at La Chaise - we had hopes of one in the ravine - but he dashed our hopes.

There were wells near the buildings, one largish one for the Farmhouse complex and a smaller one near the main house. One of my first actions at La Chaise was to get the well walls built up, above small child height, and lids put on. The main house well was soon filled in as a sycamore tree had decided to grow next to it, roots happily in the mud. It now has roses in it.

The Farmhouse well was next to its pond - it was one of those low entrance wells, the housewife would kneel in front of it, lower her bucket and pull it back up.   Obviously that had to go when our 20th century tourists came to stay. But the pond is still there.

And now I have a modern solution to keeping the Farmhous pond fresh!   The  Farmhouse has just been (expensively) re-roofed and I have added gutttering with a down pipe whose water will be led to the pond...

Who knows?   After a winter perhaps the wild ducks or the cranes will come back and refresh themselves on their long treks between Morroco and the Netherlands.