There are three eco-systems at Iten's Acres that are intertwined: the pond, the bog, and the mound. They are undoubtedly related to each other. I assume the pond was dug first, the mound is the dirt from digging the pond, and the bog is the aftermath of the raising of the ground level with the sides of the pond. It's my version of William Byrd's Dismal Swamp. I love it!
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.)
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