Bring on the ducks, the geese and the hippopotamuses! All are welcome at 'Osprey Valley Pond'.
Of course I named it. I'm a writer -- everything has to have a title.
Of all the summers to dig a pond, we picked the driest summer ever, so for us, yesterday's unexpected downpour (the remnants of Hurricane Matthew that ended up drenching the Maritimes on Thanksgiving Monday) provided us with the major boost of water needed to finally fill up was what a rather uninspiring mud hole.
This is one of those country life daydreams Dwayne and I came up with when I moved in years ago, one of our many conversations that started with me, the city girl, saying, "Honey, what about...?"
When Dwayne began talking about stocking trout, I knew the pond would happen one day.
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