Among the many small hills of the land, there are plenty of ponds in sight of the highway. About half are only there during spring, gathering just enough water to allow the cows something to wade in when it gets hot. The rest are there year-round, their levels varying depending on the season. At this moment most of them are near capacity. I find it interesting to see what goes on at the permanent ponds during this time of year, I started this route in July last year and they had all begun shrinking by the time I began paying attention.

Each pond of relevant size has something on it or around it. Paddleboats are common, some have a picnic table by it, others have (I'm guessing) some sort of wildlife testing thingies floating in them. Since spring just ended, I have seen people fishing out of them, swimming in them, and camping by them. I've yet to see humans and bovines at the same pond, so maybe the cows only get the temporary ones. Who knows?

One pond in particular has part of a dead tree lying in it. I mention this only because it is a gage of sorts for the weather. Only twice has the "log" been completely submersed, once last winter after the water had frozen and then it had snowed, and again a few weeks back after some storms. At the end of last summer the water was probably five feet away from touching it, so I figure, if the log is under even a trace of water, then things can't be too bad.

I like sitting here, it's so calming to me, like a sense of serenity wafts off the water and settles over me. I used to never come here, but I'm glad Harold finally talked me into it. Coming to the Oz-pond is one of my favorite things to do now. If only he would mention fish, then the day would be complete.

I look over at Harry who also has a look of peace about him. He's my husband. We've been married for almost two decades now. To look at him he seems like nothing special, he's not hansom, nor ugly, just sort of...average. He'd never stand out in a crowd, nor would he want to. He'd rather just sit back and watch it, gleaning little bits of information from those he observed.

I'd better clarify myself so you don't get the wrong impression: Just because Harry is plain in appearance, the rest of him is nothing of the sort. When I first met him, he was nice, and that's really all I thought about him, but as I spent more time with him I realized he's smart and funny. I find nothing more attractive in a man than intelligence and being able to make me laugh. I love to laugh. My job left little room for that (I am a retired nurse) and my life prior to Harry wasn't a joy either.

Harry sort of spent his life wandering through it. He never really had a career. Oh, he spent goodly amounts of time at whatever job he held, and he was always adept at them, he just never seemed to find his niche. He was a supplier for the hospital I worked at, which is how I met him.

He never once hit on me, I mean he never treated me any different than anyone else. He always had a smile, could always make a little small talk if presented with it, and always had a funny response for whatever was sent his way. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't a fan of small talk, but with acquaintances he was as good as anybody. Harry really likes an involved, deep conversation. I love the way he can get me caught up in one, make me look at something like I hadn't before. Harry isn't political, or religious to speak of, but anything involving moral dilemmas or any sort of problem is his forte. He might not actually come up with a solution, but he loves trying.

About two years ago, some obscure relative of Harry's passed away. He only has vague memories from his childhood, but I guess he made enough of an impression then because he was left a house and farmland. That is where we live now.

Inheriting the house and land sped up my retirement by a few years, and pretty much started his. Harry was raised in a city, and in such places is were he had spent his entire life, but when he had the property assessed and found out how much it was worth, we packed up everything and moved here. Harry's never been really good with money. Sure, he's always managed to get by and live decently, but he was never one for saving or looking to the future. Anyway, Harry went about looking over the land, and wheels started clicking in his head, he was never a farmer, and didn't plan on starting now, so he put up all the farmland for sale. There were streams and some ponds on the land, but he didn't want to get rid of those, so he sold only the farmable acres. We probably got less than we could have, but Harry liked the water, so we now have the house and some spidery stretches of land.

Harry wanted to get some ATV's to ride around on the land, but I somehow managed to talk him into getting horses instead (he still bought an ATV, but he never uses it.) He only agreed to the horses if I took care of them. I didn't mind, I'm retired now, remember? He had his woodshop, and I had already gotten some beautiful wildflowers to grow in the area around the house.

Okay, Harry may be smart and funny, but he does have some...odd qualities, or notions if you like. Once we got the money for the land, he built himself a very nice woodworking shop by the house. At first he used to spend every day out there. He started with small projects, picture frames, pipes (I have no idea why, he doesn't smoke) chessmen, and other things, and he got very good at them. Like I said, he his adept at whatever he does. Then he started something big, he never told me what it was, but from what I saw of it, it might've an entertainment center or something. I don't know if it was too long of a project, if he got bored with it or what, but to this day he hasn't finished it. He went back to the small items for awhile, then he started more medium sized projects, tables, chairs, and such. That's what he does now, and they are very good. Occasionally we go to craft shows and sell his stuff, and some things I make out of wicker. When we fill all the orders we get, we go to another show. This is our life on the "farm," it keeps us busy, makes us some extra income, and we still have time to sit at the Oz-pond whenever we want.

Did you notice the term "farm?" Harry still calls it that even we sold all the usable acreage. Harry has a thing about names and terms - it's one of his oddities. Everything of importance gets its own little name, or nickname. I am Samantha, but he calls me Sammy, sometimes Sam. My daughter (his step-daughter) he calls Andy, even though her name is Andrea. He didn't at first, only after we were firmly caught in his spell (Andrea adores him) did he start using those names. On occasion he does call us by our full name, maybe to make sure he remembers them, or just to let us know he knows, and it is usually a surprise when he does. Maybe that's what he is doing, trying to keep us off guard. I don't know and he'll never tell. Anyway, he enjoys the name thing, and I decided long ago to find it sexy.

I get almost pushed out of my chair, and look up to see Jack nuzzling me. Jack is one of the two horses we bought. I pet his nose then he walks away to Sarah. Sarah is the other horse. I mentioned the name thing right? Well, when we got the horses Harry decided to name them, Serendipity is the mare and Jackal is the gelding, but he calls them Jack and Sarah. We keep them on our "farm" and ride them out to Oz-pond. Why "Oz-pond?" Well, this pond is the farthest away from our house. I'm just waiting for him to figure out a way to make the trail here yellow.

"Do you know whose dog that is, Honey?" Harry asks me.

I look up to see a medium-sized black dog on the other side of the pond taking a drink. As I watch, the dog finishes, then sits on its haunches and starts wagging its tail. I could swear it was looking at us and smiling. I should've brought my glasses.

"I don't recognize it," I replied.

Harry studied the dog for a few moments, "It might be a stray. If it happens to come to the house, give it some food. If it gets along with the other dogs, and wants to stay, let it."

I nodded my response knowing that he didn't see it, but I also knew he didn't have to. We thought alike on so many things it that at times it was creepy.

And don't even get me started on the dogs' names, they are far more bizarre than the horses.

I look to the north and the highway. The Oz-pond was only yards from the road, but we never seemed to notice the vehicles flying by. This place has that kind of effect on us. I moved my eyes down a bit to the branch of a tree that lay on the bottom of the pond. It was still about two-thirds under water. That was a good thing, it meant that there was still time to enjoy the Oz-pond before the summer became too brutal.

"Honey," he said somewhat distractedly.

"Yes, Dear?"

"Remind me to get some fish to stock the Oz-pond with."

In response I reach out and touch his hand. He squeezed, and our hands remained clasped. I smile as contently as I ever had as we watch the sun slowly dip below the horizon.

Besides the cows standing in the ponds - just standing there like that was the be all and end all - the funniest thing I saw was a ski boat. Someone actually put a boat in one of the ponds and had a skier behind them.

Hey, how about we go to the pond and you can ski in a constant circle at slow speeds? But be careful, if you get too wide past the wake you might hit a tree or the shore, or that picnic table...

© 2009 Ravenai