This evening the fountain suddenly slowed to little more than a trickle.
We checked the water level. Everything seemed fine. Brian finally decided to pull the pump apart to clean the filter, figuring something must have clogged it.
It had.
Just not in the way we expected.
Tucked safely inside the back of the pump was a tiny little frog, alive and completely unharmed. Somehow it had found its way into the fountain and settled into the one place that brought everything to a stop.
Brian carefully lifted it out, and we carried our unexpected visitor over to the puddle where it belongs.
The fountain began flowing again.
The frog hopped away.
Problem solved for everyone.
One of the things I’ve come to appreciate from sitting behind the puddle is that every part of the yard eventually becomes connected. The bird feeders, the patio, the fountain, the grasses, the puddle itself—they aren’t separate places. They’re all part of one small ecosystem where every creature is simply trying to find a safe place to rest, drink, hunt, hide, or grow.
Sometimes the answer to “What’s wrong with the fountain?” turns out to be, “Nothing at all. Someone else was just borrowing it.”
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