St. Francis of The Falls

Without the old rubber liner the newly captured spring filled the mud hole only about half way up that rock in the bottom of the hole. All that full pond's worth of water in 24 hours had to be going somewhere. I had to find out where.

Some possible drain pipes had been pointed out a while back so I went digging. It didn't take long before I hit a gusher. The water was coming out with so much pressure I thought I broke a water line. I hadn't thank goodness, but whatever that pipe was draining was full, full, full.

The big pipe drains the grate in front of the garage. I stuck a hose in the grate and checked. It's that smaller diameter pipe that was the gusher. Forty eight hours later the flow has decreased to a small steady stream, but there is still water in the bottom of my mud hole.

Did anything change when I opened that blocked drain line? The flow of the captured spring was reduced by about 75%. It's down to a slow drip almost. Did I capture a spring I didn't need to and only scrape the surface in the process?

Oh dear St. Francis of the Falls
Grant me mercy
I do so want
Leadeth me to a mud hole with no gathering waters
Yea, though I slosh through the muck and the pond scum
I will solve this problem

Surely drainage and a dry mud hole will follow
and we will splash in a working Twin Falls fish pond forever.
Amen.

Then there was nothing to do but go home, where 'Diane' is showing more color by the day.

After two weeks and a low of -5 'Jelena keeps on blooming. They really are baby shrubberies. I am hoping they follow the seemingly faster growth rate of the deciduous plants.

You will just have to deal with all my Witch Hazel pictures because that is what I have in the wild cultivated garden in the middle of January. 'Diane' and 'Arnold's Promise' are yet to come. That could get me to March.

This what I have blooming in the wild cultivated gardens high on the low spot of a barren North Carolina mountain top in the middle of frickin' January. Imagine that. It's awesome and way better than frozen pond scum.

In another year or two the Red Twig Dogwoods, that are indeed still twigs, should be adding to my colorful display of winter interest in the barren time. One twig at a time.