The hand-dug four-foot by seven-foot micro-pond is probably my favorite feature of the garden. I can tell if it was raining while I’ve been away by how full it is: quietly catching all the run-off on wet days and letting it slowly go on dry ones. There’s always enough water in it to wash the mud off my carrots and radishes before I take them inside. But the best part was the appearance of amphibians.
My daughter named him Mr. Jumps. Shortly, there was a Mrs. Jumps. (All guesswork, we have to admit.) Soon there was a pond full of the Jumpses who would catapult themselves from the edge into the water at our approach but didn’t seem to mind beets being rinsed right next to them. I suppose they feel more confident in water.
Then, one day in early fall, they were nowhere to be seen. Did Mr. Slithers get them all? I preferred to conclude that the hint of frost sent them into hibernation. The weather warmed unseasonably and a few reappeared. It’s the middle of October and they seem gone for the year. But where do they go? Is there a frog dorm hidden among those grasses?
