The photo shows a tarpaulin previously covering the pool and now stretched out to dry. (The pool isn’t uncovered yet, though; there was another tarpaulin underneath.)
Anyone would think I put it there for the dogs’ benefit.
Taylor sees it as a venue for stick-chewing.
Galileo enjoys digging holes through gaps in the folds.
Florence has adopted it as her personal race track and is sprinting up and down its shining silver length.
I know this cricket is about to jump because I saw it jump just after I took the photo.
It looks like it’s peering into the abyss, whereas in fact it landed on the next leaf.
Crickets are very vulnerable creatures; you sometimes see them with only one hind leg, leaping valiantly.
They drown almost immediately in the pool. If you rescue them in time, they tend to jump straight back in.
* * *
This is my pen-pen-ultimate regular post on this site.
In fact you’ll already find this same photo, with different text, in Daily Reflections on our Self-Publisher Website.
So please go and follow me there!
It sounds quite nice; you can have oak leaf wine after all. But it’s not so nice to swim in.
The mammoth oak by the house sheds its catkins, and the wind plonks them straight in the pool.
Yesterday it was like bathing in noodle soup and in no time at all I had a mass of the things in my fishing net.
Today the wind had veered and took a lot of them into the skimmer basket.
I’m glad we have the pool closed when the oak sheds its leaves!
This is the water on the pool tarpaulin, part way through being syphoned off.
You can see how much it’s gone down already from the black/grey tideline.
Clive reckons several thousand gallons of water came off via the hose, which was running for 5 or 6 hours.
We’ve had another bout of storms, with so much rain that I had to drain the swimming pool a bit to stop it overflowing.
The ants are on the move; they’ve been milling on the doorsteps. When they cross the weather bar, I pour boiling water on them, which is very effective in the short term and completely dog-safe.
Snails ventured out over our terrace at the back and three of them must have got stranded.
I found them, shells intact, surrounded by a thick black peppering of ants.
I turned one of them over and it looked as if a small number of ants were tugging at shreds of the snail’s foot.
Apparently large snails try to defend themselves by producing foamy mucus but this doesn’t prevent them from being overpowered when the ants arrive in force.
I should think it’s quite a horrendous way to go.
The weather forecast was right – we had storms today. The first drops fell just as I got into the pool.
It felt very dramatic: high wind, the first rumbles of thunder, and then arrows of rain as I was getting out again.
There wasn’t a huge amount of rain, but the contrast between the still, sun-soaked landscape before, and the torn, ragged monotones during the storm was so complete that it seemed like a different country.
I prowled around afterwards, revelling in not having to water the garden for a change, and saw this hibiscus bloom staring out at me.
I was in the pool for an afternoon swim when I became aware of the swallows’ twitter becoming very loud.
Four of them were swirling round and coming in low over the water.
Mostly they just broke the surface with their wing tips, but one darker-coloured swallow dipped its breast and actually got quite wet each time. I was on standby for a rescue.
After a few fly-bies, they had a brief rest on the nearby electricity cables before starting round again.
Eventually they went swooping away over the valley.
I’d noticed there were fewer insects landing in the pool – this must be the reason!