After record winter rains, our pond has swelled to a veritable lake. Ideal for an afternoon drift in the canoe, and a magnet for birds. Migrating geese, a blue heron that has nested in the tree above, noisy ducks coupling off for nesting, gold finches flitting through the trees, and benevolent swallows swooping above the water, gulping down scads of mosquitoes. At twilight, the frogs begin their song that crescendos to a croaking uproar, my lullaby at night. The first batches of ducklings have hatched, but the hawks and eagles hover nearby. Life on the pond... and I am inspired to write.