Woodland Pond

One of these days, I'm going to do something with this cute little pond. Right now, I mosey around it, looking at the tracks in the mud, startling hundreds of frogs, stepping over the poison ivy and in the spring, I search for (and find!!!) morel mushrooms.

When it gets dry in August, it is the only water I know of around here and the loads of wildlife take their turns drinking. Right now, they can do that in secret, because the pond is completely surrounded by brush and little trees. Maybe it should just stay our secret.

I have had thoughts that range from clearing most of the small trees and brush from around it, to building a little summer screened house (more like a deck with a roof and screening) so we can sit/eat/sleep out here without a gazillion mosquitoes constantly fighting over drilling rights.

I also have had thoughts of cutting a path that winds around the pond and allows us a nice little walk through this woods. This means a "to the death" battle with poison ivy. I actually have a little patch of poison ivy on my foot right now!




This is prime morel territory. By spring, the leaves will be packed down and more deteriorated, and the morels will push their way through this clutter so we can see them! MMMMMMM, yum!



If you look closely in the middle of this path, you can see a deer trail heading to the water. I basically followed their path to the pond and I mow this regularly.


Speaking of poison ivy, take a look at this thick vine growing up a large poplar. It is a poison ivy vine. It is over an inch across and you can tell by the hairy look that it is poison ivy. It goes up the tree about thirty feet and has its own branches sticking out. I'll probably take my saw and cut through this sometime this winter.

Do you have any poison ivy stories?

My dad tells a story about one of his employees, who was a botanist by training. Apparently, my dad and this botanist, let's call him Tim, were walking through a potential building site and my dad pointed at a vine and said, "Watch it, that's poison ivy!" Tim, said, "Nah," "poison ivy doesn't have berries. I think it is a winterberry." My dad, who knows just about everything, stood his ground and said, "I know poison ivy when I see it and that is poison ivy!" Tim said "bah" and picked a berry and popped it into his mouth and began chewing. He immediately spit it out and said "It isn't winterberry." About ten minutes later, Tim began complaining about his throat and after a few more minutes, my dad was rushing him to a hospital for treatment of a severe case of poison ivy that almost closed his entire throat down!