I am with pond!

As with everything in my transition from France to England

I have gone from large to small in one fell swoop.

Chateau to lock-up; space to sleep a small coach party

to one bedroom; a hundred plus oak trees to three

beautiful camelias, and the same rule applies to water.

I don't do anything by halves!
 

First clear away all the old crap so you can see what
you're doing.

  

Once the proud owner of a huge, well-stocked carp lake

together with woodland and a fishing lodge I am now the,

even more proud (if that's possible) owner of a 6 foot x 4 foot

x 3 foot pond!
 

Then get rid of the old monstrosity with puny
little "water feature".

 

While I can't claim to have clawed it out of the earth with my bare

hands I can admit to being the brains (and cheque book)

behind the entire operation.

 

Find yourself one of these - I had three eventually!

 

There is something about a the ownership of a pond which is

very difficult to explain to anyone not bitten by the bug.

Wherever I have lived I have always felt the need for an expanse

of water - large or small.
 

Clear the decks - we're ready to rock!

  

As a small child I constructed my first waterhole behind the

tool shed from an old washing-up bowl and a lot of imagination.

Each year I would seek out some frog spawn and each year

would take the same small pleasure in watching the tiny tadpoles

hatch and week by week morph into tiny froglets.
 

 

Coming along nicely until we struck the water pipe!

 

Nothing much has changed in the interim really except that I now

have my sights set on some modest goldfish with whom to get

acquainted and have already ordered a couple of water lillies

to give the whole enterprise yet another dimension.

 

All done, complete with fountain and
adjacent pergola.

The view from my office window is now just perfect!

My intention has always been, and still is, to attract

wildlife - dragonflies, amphibians and the like

so you can imagine my surprise just five minutes ago

when a bloody greart ole harnser (Norfolk for heron) descended

from out of nowhere to give it the once over.

 

Flaming cheek. 

 Now bugger off and don't pierce my liner!
Thank goodness I haven't bought my fish yet or it could
have been roast heron for tea!