The Pond

What I call the pond, a body of water maybe a hundred feet in diameter at the back of my house in Columbia, Maryland, had, when I first moved here a couple of years ago, a small cluster of floating water reeds in its center. Over time, that cluster expanded and moved south, toward my house. Now when I look from my deck, I see an expanse of weeds. Off to the sides, there are still patches of water visible. And, yes, mallard ducks, both drakes and hens, still come to the pond periodically, but in fewer numbers than in the past.

What was once a lovely view, a major reason I bought the house, is now dulled by a span of weeds. I have written to the Columbia Association suggesting that they might want to reduce or, better yet, eliminate the weeds. My guess is that they won’t accept my suggestion. Looks like I’m stuck with a dull view.

I’ll survive. The pond is surrounded by mature trees of many different varieties. Right now, they’re all leafless and look skeletal. But when Spring arrives and new leaves grow, they will be as magnificent as ever.

So I’ll resume my practice of taking all my meals on my deck overlooking the pond and do my reading out there.

It’ll be as lovely—well, almost as lovely—as ever.

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