The one that got away…

I am looking forward to April. Not just because it might have stopped raining and warmed up a bit by then, but because I have a feeling we have come to the notice of the water deities through our research for the weekend workshop… and I am getting fed up with being a plumber and dealing with aquatic mishaps.

It has all been about water lately, from pond, hot tub and aquarium, to broken bathrooms, leaking sheds and a washing machine that cheerfully floods my kitchen yet again whenever Iย  attempt to repair it. And that is without the saturated lawn that has developed a pond of its own and squelches underfoot, or the flooded roads and fields.

And then, this morning, when a pale and watery sun hovered indecisively in the sky, I arrived at my son’s home to find him, dressing-gown clad, watching the pond…

“I’ve just witnessed a miracle…”ย  I thought he was joking, but, looking at his expression, it appeared not. He had opened his bedroom blinds forty-five minutes earlier, only to see a dead fish on the side of the pond. It was one of the big goldfish and, given how low the surface of the water is compared to the path where it lay, it hadn’t got there by itself. Bird droppings big enough for a pterodactyl gave the culprit away… the heron had called.

The old pond was almost impossible for the herons to get at, but the new layout, while much more accessible, we hoped would still prove too difficult for the great birds to use as a sushi bar. Apparently not. The heron had probably been scared away by the opening of the electric blinds, but too late to save the poor fish that lay in a pool of blood and scattered scales.

Even so, my son went out to see if there was any hope. It takes him a while though so held little hope himself… what would take most people seconds, takes many minutes for Nick and fish do not do well out of water… and there was no way of being sure how long it had lain there.

By the time Nick made it out to the pond, the fish lay still, not even a flicker of the gills to offer a sign of life. There was no point returning it to the pond… it was way too late for that. He sat by the fish to wait for my arrival to dispose of the corpse.

Forty-five minutes after he had first caught sight of the fish through the window, as I pulled into Nick’s street… the dead fish began to flap about on the path. As quickly as he could, Nick scooped up the erstwhile corpse and returned it to the water. By the time I let myself into the garden, it was swimming normally and you would never have known there had been a problem apart from the blood and scales it had left behind. No wonder Nick was looking gobsmacked!

While that was indeed cause for celebration, it would appear that two of the babies Nick has been nurturing had provided the heron with a first course… Though we still live in hopes that they are hiding in the weeds, they were such friendly and curious creatures, used to anything approaching the pond being a source of food rather than the other way around…

So, I spent all morning on fish watch and erecting a makeshift heron fence around the pond. Then walked the dog in the rain and saw the muddy pawprints pooling on my nice, clean floor once again…

Seriously, I may have to write about some of the ancient springs around here, just to get the undines off my back. It is either that or roll on April…

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email:
This entry was posted in Life, Photography and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

30 Responses to The one that got away…

  1. I’m glad about the revived fish, Sue, and sad about the other two. And mud on a clean floor.


  2. Annika Perry says:

    Sue, Iโ€™ve got goosebumps reading about Nickโ€™s fish coming back to life! ๐Ÿ˜€ I hope the baby ones are still hiding safely. You both sound so close which is always special. Iโ€™m with you for April and Spring canโ€™t come soon enough! Our lawn is slowly becoming a water meadow … maybe we should let it be just so! Hope your water problems sort! Take care! Xx


    • Sue Vincent says:

      Thanks, Annika. One of the babies we thought was lost poked its head out of the weeds today… so it is not quite as bad as we thought. With all the water around, though, I hope the heron decides to fish elsewhere…

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Mary Smith says:

    What an amazing story. Sorry you are still so water-logged. It’s drying up here and we had a frosty sparkling morning. I’m trying not to think we might have turned a corner – that would be tempting fate.


  4. quiall says:

    Ancient Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting time.” Curse be damned! I’ll take interesting with the miracles!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. gmvasey says:

    Hmmm ….I have been getting into the Slavic goddess ลฝiva over here – she is the ‘waters of life’. Just sayin’ Hope things get better for you …


  6. So pleased about the fish, shame about the rest though.


  7. Glad about the revived fish, but sorry about the two baby fish.


  8. Eliza Waters says:

    Herons can lay waste a pond in no time. How nice that your arrival can trigger a miracle! ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Widdershins says:

    What a clever fish – playing possum! ๐Ÿ˜€ … rain, rain, and more rain here too … bugger ‘interesting times, I say! …. grrrrrr.


  10. Reblogged this on Loleta Abi Author & Book Blogger and commented:
    Oh, wonderful, Sue!


  11. willowdot21 says:

    Roll on April. As for the fish what an amazing recovery๐Ÿ’œ


  12. macjam47 says:

    Wow! That is amazing! On the other hand, I’m sorry to hear about your water woes. Love and hugs, my friend.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.