This year, it seems to be drying up faster than usual. And that is a disaster for the bazillions of tadpoles and toadpoles that are currently in residence, turning the edges of the pond into a seething black mass of frog-wannabees.
We understand that Nature is not kinder, or gentler. But... we couldn't bear the concept of 100% mortality in that little pond, which is what was happening. The pond was drying up much faster than the tadpoles could grow and morph into frogs who could hop away to safer ground. If you are a tadpole in that puddle, you are done. No chance. No hope.
Here's a look at the Tadpole Express, the muddy water seething with little wriggly tadpoles, on its way to freedom in the pond.
We are down to one section of puddle in the field now, and I have been ferrying water down to that in the mornings, trying to top it up and slow down the dry-out, to buy the little guys a bit more time. Rain would help. In the garden and the woods as well as in the pasture puddle...
We have no way of knowing how many of the transplanted tadpoles will grow up to be frogs. But we do know that those that stay in the pond won't. In the greater universe of frog tadpoles, bailing out a few buckets full of them from a drying pond can't possibly make a difference. But, it will make a difference to those in the buckets...
So, while we can't save them all, we try to save what we can.
Quite an effort, but hopefully it's worthwhile.
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