The Secret Pond

The decoys don't mind the company. 

The geese have flown off to the river, like the osprey, like all migratory birds do at this time of year, this mid-August, end-of-summer muster they do to prepare for the long flight south.
Since the geese and their goslings had made our pond their home all spring and summer, it wasn't until yesterday that I was able to visit
and be
very surprised.
I was not expecting the rocks my husband placed along "the shore" to be
perfect sitting rocks.
I was not expecting there to be a lovely bank of
bullrushes
along one side of the pond.
I was not expecting all the
dragonflies
to be dancing along the ripply surface of the clear water.
I was not expecting
the sparkles.
With all the weeds grown up and the tall bullrushes, sitting on one of the big flat rocks made it feel like I was inside
a secret garden.
There was even enough movement on the water to create a quiet lapping sound.

Of course my mind began to spin: We need a bench. I need a flat platform for doing yoga. We need a pond cabana - finally a place to hang our hammock.
Fortunately, my brain put the brakes on those wild thoughts, returned to take-it-easy, one-day-at-a-time mode. I don't really need any of those things. All I need at the pond is already there: a sitting rock and bare feet and eyes to see and a heart to record the feelings.
Breathing space.
A place of stillness.
A place of magic, of imagination.
A home for my heart in the middle of the field.
The pond! Who knew all this was waiting for us? Who knew, two years after digging a big, muddy hole, we'd have this magical place so close to home?

"We do need a trail cut," I said to Dwayne as we walked away from the pond through the tall weeds.
A secret trail.
To our secret garden.