My brother is a deliberate man. He, unlike his speed demon sister(s), studies things, thinks about them, and gradually goes about working his way through whatever he’s doing.

So he is with ponds. He decided he wanted to build a pond up on the mountain. So for a year he read about it. And he built one. And then he built a second one. Cindy and he got crazy with this one. They’ve filled it up with native fish and other nibbling things. They put the right plants (including the oh, my goodness, mountain cranberries) in and around the pond. It looks sort of murky, but when you cup your hands and bring the water up it’s crystal clear. It’s a living pond. It’s gorgeous.

And it’s oh, so swimable, if you don’t mind those nibbly moments in your close encounters of the fishy kind.

The water is silky and smooth and it was perfect for swimming… or, well, floating. Tom and I both got a little weepy thinking about how much the parents and debbie’s family would have love the pond. And all of them and then eventually most of us, will wind up in the blueberry patch that overlooks the pond, good ash making the soil just a bit more fertile.

The night before, a mama deer and her fawn had bedded down where we’ll end up. Cindy’s a hunter, but she has a big safe space around the house and a woods that mama lives in where no one hunts and few even walk. Mother Earth at her most grand.

Nature, getting back to itself. There is so much Peace in this land. So much Peace in that pond… just a really sweet balance in life on earth… I gave thanks and reveled in Peace, Love and all the bounty of their garden. Late summer. It’s an amazing thing. And, oh, my goodness, somehow summer has drifted into September… Peace.