Lyra has now dropped one real bone and one squeaky bone in the pond. She has shown no inclination to retrieve them. Accordingly, I was exhorted this afternoon to get into the pond and encourage the dog to swim.
Having built up some serious heat by wrestling the 8 foot buttercups from the clay bed at the top pond – my least favourite job every year, I was willing. It was slightly cold, but no colder than the Ettrick and some of my most idyllic summer memories involve swimming at the Cauld so I pressed on… Lyra looked at me witheringly and made off with one of my gardening gloves (yet to be retrieved).
The toadspawn seems to have lasted better than the frog spawn, perhaps because quite a bit of it was anchored around some deeper plants nearer the middle. But my suspicion that there were more newts than usual seems correct. I was able to get quite a good look from the middle of the pond by standing still and impersonating a plant.
The Gunnera is coming out properly now and we have acid yellow marsh marigolds everywhere. No newts so far as I can see in the top pond, but quite a few frogs basking in the sun. In the evening you can hear them singing….