When it comes to fixing ponds, it’s a frog’s life
I have always had a thing for frogs. They sit in tree hollows by the beach hut and often pop up on the plot. Howard takes spawn home with his girls, returns and re-wilds them when the frogs grow legs. There are two ponds on the allotment site. One has long been trouble. It regularly leaked into Ruth’s plot, number 30, next to ours. We pitched in one day to fix it. We lifted the marsh marigold and yellow flags and found lots of sleepy frogs. We carefully moved them to the next-door pond though I worried a little about overcrowding.
We scooped out the muddy water, we cleared, we relined and refilled. I scoured the site for branches and mossy broken wood to soften the edges. We ate winter allotment soup, then stood around and felt satisfied.