It is six weeks since I blogged about the creation of a garden pond at Tense Towers. To be honest, there's been little progress since, for a number of reasons, but the plan is still to have a functioning water body before the end of the Summer. I should perhaps qualify that remark, as anecdotally, the end of the Orcadian Summer is associated with the second week of August, when a cold wind invariably appears, to scoff at Hawaiian shorts and pina coladas. Maybe I should aim for the Autumnal equinox?
Anyway, back in May, I left you with news that the liner and some pond plants had been ordered. The pond plants from Celtica Wildflowers, in Perthshire, duly arrived and were put into small water-filled containers to acclimatise. And there they still are, although the House Sparrows have found these containers and happily drink from them. Indeed the hole excavated for the pond has been a source of great interest for sparrows, Starlings, Rock Doves and an assortment of gulls, although now it is beginning to develop a green frisson as plants begin growing from the bare earth.
The liner took a little longer to arrive, actually a lot longer, as apparently the whole world was using lockdown as an excuse to dig a pond. The manufacturers couldn't keep up with demand, so my liner was going to be a while. Obviously, lots of ponds should be great for wildlife, but the aquatically-minded creatures at Tense Towers would have to be patient.
Traditionally, during the Summer in Orkney, the phrase "Is there a liner in?" refers to whether there's a cruise ship berthed at Hatston quay, disgorging bus loads of tourists to the scenic honeypots of the archipelago, but that ain't happening either, for obvious reasons.
At the beginning of this week, the pond liner finally arrived, almost to the day when we discovered a problem with our sewage arrangements. We aren't on a sewage main, but have a septic tank to take care of such things. Investigations continue, but it would seem poodent to wait and see whether half the back garden has to be excavated to repair a soak away.
As they say, shit happens.
A more recent blogpost bewailed the lack of rain and the dire consequences for dragonflies and damselflies hereabouts. Predictably, since then, it's done nothing but rain, or at least we have had a series of light showers. I can't help but think that these would have been handy for filling up a nascent water body and pacifying any passing Naiads. I can but hope.
To be continued...