It’s been a while since I’ve posted to my blog. I remember this time last year it was the same – as the winter came on and the pond went quiet, so did my impulse to write. I’ve walked the pond the past few weeks with the frequency of my walks in spring, summer, and fall. But I’ve taken fewer pictures, and felt no thrill in my brain or tug at my heart in some time. Today, I had both. And I’m sure that’s why tonight, late in the evening, I have the need to post before I turn in.

As I began my walk, I thanked God for a day warmer than yesterday’s temp-in-the-teens. Still, I was well bundled to keep out the below freezing air. The pond is fully covered in ice now. Much of it is clear ice, and I was drawn to the shore to shoot pictures of fall’s debris, which is visible in indistinct forms and not true colors beneath the ice.

While I shot a few pictures, the pond groaned. It gave off a sound similar to a grumbly tummy. I looked up from the camera and glanced around to see if it truly was the pond that had emitted the sound. In a moment it did it again, and my dog and I looked about, alert for the source of the noise that filled the air. I’ve heard the quick boom a pond puts off when the ice cracks, but this was different.

The dog and I resumed our walk as the sound repeated, sometimes for ten seconds or so. It was exciting to hear, and immediately I found myself wondering what words I could use to describe it in my blog. First, it brought back memories of the original Star Wars movie. It wasn’t the light sabre noise, nor Darth Vader’s breathing. It was more like the pulsing sound of a ray gun. But further along I decided it had the quality of the song of a whale. In the end, I settled on the sound of all the submarine movies of the 70s – that underwater, resonating, deep toned, drawn out and wavering ‘boom’. It seemed to travel from one end of the pond to the other each time it occurred.

Always willing to admit my slim knowledge about nature, I offer my consideration that the sound was the result of the expanding ice as it continued to freeze. But as I live on a fault line, I had to wonder, too, if some event well below the pond was being recorded in noise within the pond.

What I’m most pleased to share in this blog is that I captured the noise on (digital) film! How, you wonder? On one side of the pond are little unfrozen circles, about eight inches in diameter, that I believe remain unfrozen because of bubbles that rises to the water’s surface with enough frequency that the water isn’t still enough to freeze.

Still water showing bubbles.

As I passed these circles, a moderate belch was given off by the pond. In the liquid, the waves of the sound were apparent! It was thrilling – so thrilling in fact that I found myself sharing my delight with a verbal outpouring to my dog, “Oh my gosh, can you see that?” Enjoy these picutures.

I was so intrigued by the pond groans that I walked its perimeter three times just so that I could continue to listen to it. In the final stretch, I spotted a Red Fox walking along the shore. Once before I’ve see a Red Fox at the pond. But this fox didn’t seem to mind the diminishing distance between us, as my dog and I came closer. And, as we were about 30 feet from it, it dropped to its belly. I was certain its posture was one of submission. Instantly I realized it was sick. Through red eyes nearly closed, it watched us pass at a cautious distance. Once we were beyond its pathway, it stood and slowly ambled on. I was so sad watching it, as I am sure it was going to its final resting place. And, as I walked home I hoped it would find a warm den to curl up and fall asleep for the last time.