Watching goldfish play on an August afternoon

Today I stood at the pond's edge
Under the shade of the lemon tree
Watching orange fish dart in the water
From the shade of one lily pad to the next.

As the waterfall burbled
The fish at play kept me transfixed.
Standing still
The hot August day didn't feel quite so hot.

A sleepy garden kitty spotted me,
Left her shady slumber spot
Traversing each patch of shade between her and me
To greet me and welcome me to her world for today.

I lost track of time.
I don't know how long I watched the fish
From my shady vantage point.
But as I left it to walk back to the house
I could smell the heat of summer
Radiating from my skin and clothes.

Goldfish Moment

The Rosehaven Cottage pond has been home to goldfish for quite a few years now. The original batch came from Wal-Mart and proliferated each spring until we have the two generations we do now. Sadly, all the original goldfish have long since gone to fishy heaven, but their progenitors still remain. This spring I added two new baby shubunkins to the mix hoping that it would add interest into the gene pool (pardon the pun). The 5 adult goldfish (3 of which are descendants of the original Wal-Mart fish) were very prolific this spring, and we have a lovely school of babies this year in lots of interesting patterns and colorations.

For all the years that we've had goldfish in the pond, the goldfish have always been afraid of me. If they would see me moving around the pond, they would quickly hide in the foliage. It was only when we had to remove them from the pond in order to reconfigure it, did I get a chance to truly enjoy them while they resided in an 100 gallon Rubbermaid horse trough. When it was time to go back into the pond, I cried. I thought that would be the end of the fun moments I had with them coming to the sight of my hand and "asking" for food with their little fishy lips. It was a bittersweet moment as I put them back into the pond where they would be happier and healthier and do the job they were intended to do... eat mosquito larvae.

I've noticed over the summer as the babies have gotten bigger, that the goldfish were seeming to recognize me when I would come to the same spot every other day to feed them their goldfish flakes the way the older ones used to when they were in the horse trough. Were they actually recognizing me? They seemed to be.

Then just yesterday, I had to wade into the pond to replace the smaller pond pump that was on the fritz. As I walked in I noticed that the whole school of fish (big and small) was swimming toward me! There they were swimming in formation directly for my feet!

As I worked on the pump, I had the magical experience of having little baby goldfish, as well as the adult goldfish that are about 5-6 inches long, swim around my feet as if they were kitty cats swirling and rubbing on their human's feet and legs. I could feel the cool soft velvet of their goldfish bodies brush up against me, while the babies enjoyed "kissing" the inner arches of my feet as I stood in the water.

This is a first for me. I've never liked touching fish, particularly live ones. I always avoid it as much as possible--choosing to net them without touching them if I need to move them. But I didn't even freak out or feel the need to scream as they swam around my feet. It was such a peaceful and serene moment.

I guess goldfish aren't quite as dumb as they are believed to be. They have enough intelligence to recognize me and know that I'm not a raccoon or a white egret.

A Different Light in the Garden

About a four hour drive north of Rosehaven Cottage, a forest fire is burning just 6 miles from the sleepy town where my mother grew up. The town is Greenville, located in part of Northern California's former logging country in the Indian Valley of Plumas County. Greenville is where I spent precious childhood moments visiting my Grammy until she passed away from ovarian cancer when I was 10 years old. It is also the place where I have continued to visit and where I've created happy memories in my adulthood.

I am not only feeling the emotional effects of that forest fire, but also the environmental effects of it. The sky over Rosehaven Cottage has been hazy and brown all day because of the smoke that is drifting from seemingly so far away.

The light in the garden was very different as the sun pulsated through the haze. I found the light to be rather intriguing from a photographic standpoint. The colors around the garden took on the hues of amber and terra cotta--hues of autumn. The amber light reflected off the peach flagstones, the butter yellow walls of Rosehaven Cottage, the cool blue surface of the pond and the skins of the pomegranates in a magical way.

Above left and right: Pomegranates weigh down the branches of their bush over the pond.

Above: Pomegranates against Rosehaven Cottage


Above: Pomegranates and pomegranate blossom on slate


Above: A little 3 inch long lizard on flagstone regarding me as I photograph it.


Above: Barley or millet that sprouted from the winter birdseed (which I let grow and go to seed).

Regardless of how magical it makes my photographs look, it brings me sadness to know that the places that I love so dearly are in danger of or are actually burning right now. Those places include what I consider to be the most beautiful National Park in the United States--Mt. Lassen Volcanic National Park. According to news reports, the fast-moving fire has claimed over 18,000 acres and is only 5% percent contained when it was originally estimated at being 15% contained. Over 1,000 firefighters have been called up to fight the forest fire that started on private land. I pray that many miracles big and small will happen to end this and the other fires that are burning throughout the state of California. I also pray for the safety of those brave men and women that are fighting the fires and for their families that love them and are concerned for them right now.

Click here for the local online news story on this fire or Click here for the SF Bay Area news story on this fire

While Sitting Under the Shade of the Plum Tree...

As I was doing some minor pruning of the plum tree today, I realized how big it's gotten since we planted it the spring of 2001. It was the first tree we put in after moving to Rosehaven Cottage. I remember thinking it would take sooooo long to get big enough to be anything other than the scrawny little WalMart tree that it was. Now I realize that it didn't seem to take any time at all to get to the place where I and the tree are today.

This spring, I made some changes to the landscaping under the plum tree so there is now space to accomodate a chair for me to sit in when I need a break from the sun. As I pruned today, the thought occurred to me how often this spring and summer, I've sat in that chair in the shade of the plum tree and the things I've done while sitting there.

While sitting under the shade of the plum tree...

I've fed the goldfish in the pond right in front of my chair. I've discovered the newest baby goldfish from that vantage point. I've counted how many older fish are still swimming about. I've discovered the first babies to beginning turning orange from their dull baby brown.

I've been serenaded by a goldfinch just a foot or two above my head. It was completely aware that I was there, because it would stop its song periodically to look down at me as if to see if I was still there listening.

I've had one-on-one time with Tom Tom kitty as he has joined me in the garden for his little walking patrols. He sniffs around and then joins me under the plum tree every 5-10 minutes just to check in and rub on me and the chair. I've also witnessed him get very silly and try to run his pudgy senior feline body up the trunk of the plum tree, only to make it about 6 or so inches off the ground.

I've sat quietly listening to the next door neighbor's prepare for a birthday party and play old Mexican classics on their indoor/outdoor stereo. The music takes me to a different place--a vacation in my mind far away from home.

I have surveyed the state of the garden and made mental checklists of things I need to do when it isn't so hot or I'm not so tired from the project I'm taking a break from.

More than anything else, I've taken the time to slow down my body and mind and reconnect with my serene little habitat of a garden. This is hard for me to do--particularly getting my mind to slow down. Somehow I can sitting under the plum tree. It must be the sound of the waterfall not too far away, the sight of the bees and paper wasps getting drinks from the water's edge, the occasional butterfy or dragonfly that flies through, and the sound of unseen birds in the canopy above me.

I hope in the years to come I will do much more, see many more fish born into the pond, and contemplate lots of new ideas all while sitting under the shade of the plum tree. And I hope it will continue to be there to let me.

Young Nature in the Morning

There are rare times when serendipity happens in a theme in the garden. This morning was one of those occurrences. I was sitting under the plum tree watching for the fish to come out from under the lily pads to eat and simply enjoying the morning sun.

Oreo was on her usual patrol around the garden, keeping an eye on me as she always does in case I headed back to the front porch where she likes to be petted. She headed for the downspout of the flower pot filter that flows back into the pond like a little waterfall and got a drink from the fresh water that was flowing out.

I was watching her little pink tongue lap up the water when I saw some movement a couple of feet to her left. I looked closer to what appeared to be a dragonfly on one of the edging rocks. But I didn't see any wings. Than I realized it was a baby lizard coming to get a morning sip from the pond. Only the size of a dragonfly's torso, the little lizard was in no hurry to go anywhere--it's little head piv0ting around in lizard fashion to survey the world around the pond. It was an "ahhhh" moment.

I continued to sit and watch for the goldfish (not used to being fed in the morning) to come out and eat. I was also topping off the pond with more water from the opposite end. Evaporation and drinking wildlife necessitate replenishing the pond water every few days.

Finally, the fish started to venture out from the big lily pads on the opposite side of the pond from where I feed them in a shallower area close to my chair under the plum tree. I watched all the babies come out and feed. Some are getting so big so quickly. It amazes me how fast goldfish grow.

The mature goldfish also came out with the shubunkins leading the way. Shubunkins are a beautiful breed of goldfish that are sleek in build with a fascinating coloring looking like one started with a white goldfish and then speckled it with black, grey and orange dots in a random pattern. My shubunkins are WalMart acquisitions from when they were small and only 98 cents. I added them for breeding stock hoping they would add their genetics to the existing strain (which has shubunkins mixed in from one previous male, the infamous Punkin the Shubunkin, that was quite prolific in his lifetime). The two newer shubunkins are now about 5-6 inches long nose to tail and mature enough to breed.

I watched all the babies darting in and out eating with the big goldfish when I saw a flash of a baby that looked different. I continue to watch in the same area and saw the same baby again, then again. There was that different flash again and again! Each time I was able to more completely see that this new baby was white on its body with the telltale orange and black spots instead of the black turning to orange that I see on regular babies! Could it be that I have a baby shubunkin in all its cute spotted glory?

I continued to watch and then realized there was another one! I could see them both at the same time so I knew there were two! And there were the spots again! Yes, I'm fairly certain we have two new baby shubunkins--cute, less than an inch long.

So this morning's serendipitous theme was seeing new babies in the garden.