Anytime Ponds

Ponds soothe my soul. I like to fish ponds, of course, but it isn't fishing that attracts me to ponds. I think it is the quietness of ponds. And the life.

I pass this pond every morning on my way to work, and every morning is different. Some mornings it is dimpled with rain.  On others it is frozen white. This afternoon it reflects a leaden winter sky broken  only by the rings of foraging ducks.

The same is true of the seasons. In another month my pond will begin to come alive. Birds will call from the pond edge where new reeds will soon provide cover for nesting. New leaves, emerald green in the morning sun, will tip the bare branches of willows. And the lily pads will begin to once again tile the pond edges.

By summer the pond lilies will be in bloom, brightening the pond edges with their yellow bosoms. Cattails will wave in the breeze. And the ducks will be busy with their new broods.


Fall brings a new pallet of colors as the willows that surround the pond turn briefly and brilliantly golden.

Ponds are alive. But they are life in slow motion, slow enough to allow me to pause and contemplate. Rivers are in a hurry; they are wild, pushy, proud. Ponds go nowhere. They invite me to sit and enjoy.They presage eternity where there will be time to enjoy all God's beauty.