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Spring Cleaning: You never know what creatures might slither from the depths
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Published: April 20, 2008
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I shan't be gone long. -- You come too.
-- Robert Frost, "The Pasture"
It was a homemade water garden, not a natural spring. And it was in the backyard at the edge of the woods, not in a pasture. Still, I couldn't help but recall the much-loved words of the late poet Robert Frost, who wrote so beautifully about nature and rural life, as I hauled the leaves and muck out of the water last weekend.
Our water garden has an upper and lower pool, linked by a small waterfall. In late fall, we unplug the small pump that keeps things flowing, and let nature take its course for a few months. Nature taking its course includes the wind blowing in lots of leaves, twigs, pine cones, acorns, hickory nuts -- and lots more leaves.
By early April, the pools are in danger of becoming more compost pit than water garden. As the weather warms, the algae and duckweed start to grow. We knew it was time to start cleaning the pools and get the waterfall flowing when we saw several green frogs staring as us from under and around soggy brown leaves. The creatures need plenty of muck for refuge during the winter; but now, the frogs seemed to be saying, it's spring, and they're awake and ready for some water that's clear enough for other activities.
So there I was on a sunny Saturday, raking the leaves away. Unlike Frost, I could not promise that cleaning the water wouldn't take long. Removing what doesn't belong in the pools is a slow process because I have to be careful not to remove what does belong. Each time I raise the dripping rake from the water, I inspect the mess on the tines for wriggly creatures. And when I switch to a long-handled net to dip out algae, I have to be even more careful not to toss any fauna with the excess flora.
Our water garden has truly been a case of "If you build it, they will come." More than 10 years ago, we dug a hole in the rocky red clay, installed a liner, piled rocks on the edges, filled it with water and added a few aquatic plants. At first, you could see the black liner on the bottom through the clear, empty water.
By the next spring, however, creatures had begun to move in. How did they get there? Did some word go out to the neighbor's pond, or to our creek at the foot of a winding path through our woods? Did these small salamanders and green frogs make their own way in some improbable migration, or did they hitch a ride on some passing bird or beast? Were eggs somehow deposited in our pool?
However it was, come they did. We added a few of the small fish that live in our creek, figuring that surely they would not make the trip on their own. When the duckweed first showed up a few years ago, we bought some koi, but they quickly vanished, most likely down the gullet of some predatory bird.
Wild creatures, however, have flourished. And one of the pleasures of cleaning the pool in spring is having close encounters with them. The task is full of surprises; you never know what you might dredge up and have to put back.
My first surprise, in fact, came before I put the rake into the water. When I stepped to the edge of the pool, a brightly striped garter snake, skinny but maybe 3 feet long, slithered past me into the water. My husband has since determined that there are two garter snakes in residence at poolside, and the smaller of them is pretty friendly.
The frogs are generally quick enough to avoid being inadvertently caught, but I fished up quite a few sizable tadpoles. Salamanders were in abundance as well. I netted two minnows, or perhaps the same minnow twice. There were quite a few water snails.
I didn't see our snapper, but I hope he's still there, in the corner of the lower pool where we've put a rock for him. We first discovered the snapping turtle the summer before last, sticking his tiny snout out of the water for air. Another mystery: How did one lone baby snapping turtle come to be in that pool? We saw him several times that year, and he became rather friendly, posing for pictures in my daughter-in-law's hand.
Then last summer, my husband thought he'd found another snapper in much the same spot, until we hauled out the photos and decided it might be the same one, just a tiny bit bigger. As the days get warmer, we'll be hoping to spot him sunning.
I'm not finished cleaning the pools yet; with the forecast warning of a possible freeze last week, I wanted to be sure to leave enough muck for everyone to take shelter if necessary.
I'm hoping to get back to the job this weekend, and I can hardly wait to see what I'll discover. I shan't work too hard -- You come too.
• Linda Brinson is the Journal's editorial-page editor. She can be reached at lbrinson@wsjournal.com.
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