Revived!

Revived!

October 11, 2013

 

Almost a month has passed, during which we have had substantial rain.  What happened during this time to Cottonwood Pond? 

On the way down the slope, I kept an eye out for wildlife activity, especially any that has been encouraged by the rains.

I spotted something curious on the slope: a pile of granular debris that appeared to have been dug and tossed out from the hole next to it, or maybe carrie111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111d out of the hole by ants.  The debris was much lighter in color than the surrounding soil, looking much like Grape Nuts@ cereal.  Something, seemingly a canine, had left a firm footprint in the debris, close to the hole.  There is a story here, but more clues are needed.

I heard a slight rustle below me, and looked down near an old log just in time to see some fallen leaves move.  There was no breeze.

I quickly poked a leaf out of the way.  A shiny, dark, pointed head with shiny eyes poked up and looked at me, then pulled back into the hole just as quickly.  Salamander?  Lizard? Snake?  I took a photo of the dark hole, but I could see only darkness.

With the rains came more mud, available for crawdad chimney-building.  When these wash or wear away, the crawdad's hidey-hole is revealed.  Other creatures take up residence in abandoned holes, which may have been the case with the salamander-lizard-snake.

Another woods resident, a very young one, loves the renewed moisture, and felt it could venture out from beyond the pond.  

 Can you see it?

Tiny spiders skittered across the leaf litter on the floor.

Tiny umbrella-shaped mushrooms with delicate stems have appeared.  Fungi were flourishing in the post-rain woods.

There were still some orange Jewelweed blossoms, but most of these plants were going to seed.  This one had many bare-ended stalks where seed pods had ripened and fallen, but there was one swollen green pod with darkening seeds inside.

If you touch one ripe pod, even slightly – it explodes!  It explodes very effectively, too, flinging the crunchy brown seeds far and wide.  If you walk through a patch of ripe Jewelweed, or even just shake a plant, you hear the report of many tiny clicks as the pods explode.  A grasshopper landing on the plant can have the same result. 

As I walked to Cottonwood Pond, I heard the tiny clicks of Jewelweed seed and the light taps of dry, early autumn leaves reaching the woods floor.  A squirrel chattered aggressively at an intruder in its territory (me?) and Blue Jays squawked in the trees.

Wings of darting flies glinted as they flew through the dappled sunlight.  

Strands and webbing from spiders, draped between green plants, branches and logs, glistened in the light.

Something else glistened with movement...

The creek was flowing again!

A little bit further, and …  there was Cottonwood Pond – almost full! 

 It was definitely no longer a puddle.  I had not brought my depth-measurer with me, but I could see that this was a significant change.

The “siltation spot” dipped directly into water again.

Sunlight gleamed on the water's edge of the north side, and reflections of overhead trees had reappeared.

A “woolly worm” (or Woolly Bear caterpillar) had found itself directly over the pond – a very curious thing.  It seemed to have taken a wrong turn and found itself in a difficult spot.  If it makes it back to safety, it may get to spin a cocoon and eventually become an Isabella Tiger Moth.

Here is a view of the pond from the southeast, as seen through a patch of Jewelweed.

With all of the excitement of the pond being full again and the creek flowing again, the raccoons had been beating a path between the two, through “the seep”.  

I went to peek at the other side (top) of the root ball.

The “Little Pond” was completely full again!

I noticed holes created in the mud of the root ball top.  I would like to find out what is making them and living in them.

The Elderberry shrub has been growing well from below the side of the root ball.

It has been a long time since I've provided a view of the rest of the tree.  Here is the fallen Cottonwood tree again.

The water in Cottonwood Pond on this day was murky.  The hard rains had stirred the mud again, and tiny particles were still suspended throughout the water, which had no visibility.  I wondered about the effects on tadpoles, frogs, snails, water beetles, water bugs, worms, water fleas, algae, and various tiny larvae.

Part of the definition of a pond in the book Pond Life (A Golden Guide) is “... a quiet body of water so shallow that rooted plants grow completely across it” (as opposed to a lake, which is too deep in the middle for enough light to penetrate and support plant life).  Cottonwood Pond has had no plant life within its borders, during its first year.  I wonder if it ever will support aquatic plant life, or if it is so subject to change that it does not have enough consistency to keep plant life going.

What has happened with Cottonwood Pond, thus far, seems to substantiate certain things that I had hypothesized earlier, and throughout the year:

–        The clay in the bottom behaves as a practically impermeable bowl, holding water in the pond so that it does not seep through the bottom.

–        When the pond fills to beyond its edge, excess water seeps from a corner to the creek via “the seep”.

–        The only source of additional water to the pond is precipitation.

–        When the pond is at or below level, the only way water leaves the pond is through evaporation.

–        During the part of the summer when we had high temperatures and very little rain, the rate of evaporation far exceeded the amount of water coming in.

–        The clay particles are so fine that when turbulence occurs (such as through heavy rains or, to a lesser extent, through disturbance by human or other mammal), it takes a long time for the sediment to settle.  This leaves the water with poor visibility for a long time, which means less sunlight penetrates the water, probably affecting the growth and activity of animals, algae, microorganisms, and the possibility of plants. 

Also, even when the pond is almost dry, some life does persist, so that life cycles can resume developing when conditions improve for aquatic organisms.  This also attracts more predators to the pond, as prey become more abundant.

So, Cottonwood Pond ebbs and flows.  It's a small, shallow place, easily affected by the fickleness of Indiana weather and climate conditions.  Perhaps, because of this, it will always exist as a “new” pond, fluctuating between near-death and complete renewal.  That is a rather unstable world.  What happens within it remains to be seen.