This is not a whiney, poor pitiful pond posthumous post. (I think I already did that one ...)
My pond is dry, but it's not dead. It's just resting ... in a dry sort of way.
Below is a recent view looking south. The little dock is off to the right and is a good reference point for comparison of the water level in previous pond posts.
I spent the last hour of sunlight Sunday evening shoveling some of the drier black organic goo up on to the high pond banks. Beneath a few inches of goo is clean white sand.
The wetter black goo has the consistency of pudding and is quite the quagmire.
The heron below loves the low water. The shallow conditions concentrate his little targets so hunting becomes ... like shooting fish in a barrel. He actually was gulping something sizeable as I walked up. It's almost gone in the picture.
The view below is looking north and I am down in the pond. I would have been underwater at this point a year ago. The dock is to the left, just out of the picture. I used to stand on the dock and watch the catfish and bream swim over the top of the dead, prone willow lying in the pond. The produce crate was placed in the pond as a potential catfish nest.
The dragonflies below are feeling the tug of the seasonal change. They were busy depositing eggs in the exposed pond goo to ensure next year's crop of mosquito hawks. With our dry summer, mosquitoes were almost nonexistent in Pure Florida this year.
The tiny puddle of water that remains still teams with minnows, tiny bream, snails, and water bugs gambling on some good rainfall. The odds are against them as we enter our dry fall season, but they persist.
The mud is rich with tiny earthworms, algae spores, and various insect eggs. Waiting ...
So, the pond is dry, dehydrated, dessicated, desertified, ... call it what you will, but it's far from dead.
It's just resting.