The Consequence of April Showers on the Duck Pond

Apriĺ in Mellowdene is an interesting month when it comes to weather. Primrose Evergreen's extensive meteorological records prove it. Every year about this time we have ten days of light showers. Not continually - alternating between an hour or so of rainfall and a couple of hours without - but every day in that ten day window will be affected. Such a high degree of predictability might be considered unusual although established villagers are used to it. It proves convenient when planning the dates for our Melting festival. With outdoor celebrations we must avoid exposing musical instruments to the elements. Also it's not a good idea to have excitable children on a chocolate bunny hunt running about, slipping on the wet grass.

With all the weird stuff I've learned regarding the so-called wild energies both beneath the nearby mountains and at the other end of the county in Tall Tree Forest, I wouldn't be surprised if the uncanny predictability of our April showers was yet another aspect of this Sylvanian anomaly. But that idea has only just òccurred to me - and it forms no part of this tale.

 

The showers tend to be quite pleasant - not too cold, light enough not to soak one through, and as I said, not overly long lasting before it pauses. Refreshing at times. I know Denzel has welcomed the odd shower when he's been doing some hot work, hard landscaping. Most crittizens incorporate the showers into their daily routine. An excuse to visit a neighbour or a shop if the rain starts to fall.

Some families enjoy an excuse to get damp - those with an affinity for water. There are a number who live on Mallard Road, close to the Duck Pond. The capital letters are there for a reason - the first villagers to have houses nearby were ducks. As simple as that! Anyway, the name stuck.

This tale involves both April showers and the Duck Pond. It was told to me by our good friend and Cecile's cousin, Coltsfoot Ivory, about this time last year.

 

o 0 O 0 o

I was chatting with our deputy mayor, Bill Waddlington. We had met up soon after the success of the plan we had hatched alongside Cecile. In case you don't recall, we had managed to manipulate my cousin Rowan into resuming his career as an (incredibly talented) architect after his years of drifting. (*See note)

"You did a good job, Bill, preying upon his community spirit. He can't abide injustice so I was confident he'd take action to avoid it. Playing the bad guy can't have been easy for you."

"Thanks, Colt. But don't worry; it was actually fun, using my acting skills from my college days. As for Rowan, I can live with him being a little wary of me for a while. In any case, that's not why I asked to see you. I have a more pressing worry and I'd welcome your advice. It concerns the Duck Pond."

As Bill explained, I could understand the reason for his concern. The level of the Duck Pond was increasing, and with the April showers there was a growing risk that the waters could overflow and reach the nearby houses. This shouldn't be happening. Let me first explain something about water in Mellowdene.

 

Even in the early days when the first houses were being built in Mellowdene, drainage was a consideration. Draining gullies were provided and these eventually became pipes that would channel excess water either into storage containers or into the river. Much later, as the village expanded further from the river, a reservoir was constructed to store water for our use. It was linked into the subterranean river network (boosted by Sweetwater Lake) that also supplies Vandyke's Waterworks, the numerous springs that irrigate our county... and the Duck Pond. 

 

The reservoir is a masterpiece of engineering - hence my interest - and it has a series of immense underwater valves that regulate the amount of water available. Stone slabs, precisely balanced, respond to water pressure, determining how much water is admitted/released from that branch of the underground river. As an engineer myself, I was fascinated by the clever design. The Silverfur beaver family are responsible for the reliability of its water management and I have had some wonderful conversations with them. They showed me the original design documents. Fascinating. Well, for me they are.

 

Because of my interest, I had learned something relevant within those old documents. The reservoir design was inspired by the Duck Pond. I mentioned this to Bill.

"I'm wondering if the natural flow out of the Duck Pond into the underground river has been compromised. Blocked, maybe."

 

"How would we check that out?" said Bill.

 

"We'd need to find the outflow channels, check them for damage and fix them if we can."

"And if we can't?"

"Remove the 'valve' - or its natural equivalent - entirely. It would mean the Duck Pond would settle at a much lower level. It would be barely a pond at all. It would prevent any flooding, though."

"Oh," said Bill. "I'd have to discuss it with the Mallard Road residents, but if flooding is the alternative, we'll have to get things moving. I can get the admin sorted with Ramsey and the rest of the council, preempting any action, but I suggest we begin the investigations before the April showers make things worse. Could I prevail upon you to get things going?"

He could - and I did. 

 

o 0 O 0 o

One of the residents was Maurice Floater and he had volunteered to swim down and have a look. He was accompanied by Miller Silverfur who had brought along his waterproof camera. 

 

When they emerged from the Duck Pond I was waiting to hear their report.

"You're right," said Miller, accepting towels from his son. "In one place the stone slab has worn and cracked. It has shifted so that the action of the murkweed has become irrelevant. It's a major outlet and I'd estimate that the water flow has reduced by around 80%. With the April showers, the Duck Pond will continue to rise. It might be okay this year but some action needs to be taken soon."

Maurice looked confused. "What's the murkweed got to do with it?"

Miller gestured for me to explain whilst he began to get dressed..

"It's like the reservoir, Maurice. The deeper the pond, the greater the water pressure, and there are some slabs of stone that tilt to allow the water to drain back into the underground river network. However, whereas the mechanism for the reservoir works through precision engineering overseen by Miller's family, the Duck Pond mechanism is totally natural. Growth of murkweed does the job.

"When the water level is too low, the murkweed gets more light and that encourages its growth. It pushes back on the stone slabs and counteracts the water pressure. Less water drains away and the Duck Pond rises. And it works in reverse. Higher water level - less light to the murkweed - the plant isn't as effective resisting the water pressure on the slab - more water drains away. The photo-reactive attribute of the murkweed makes it an efficient regulator."

Maurice nodded. "I see. And now the slab has cracked..."

 

"...it has wedged at an angle so that the water pressure cannot tilt it," said Miller. 

"What can be done?"

"Well, I'll develop the photos I've taken so that Colt can see, but I think the damage is to the extent that it can't be repaired. A new slab might be needed."

"You've seen it, Miller," I said. "I'll look at your photos but I'll bow to your experience. I'll have a word with Forest Evergreen. Warn him so that he can find some suitable stone to use."

 

Whereas Forest's mother was from a family involved in meteorology, his father was from a long line of stone masons. Forest continued the family business.

 

"You'll need a sample of the existing stone," said Miller, "and the dimensions."

Maurice was watching us with concern. "If the broken slab does need replacing, what happens to the Duck Pond during the work?"

 

"It might be worth informing the Mallard Road residents all together," I said. "I'll get Bill Waddlington to organise that. But I expect you'll see the Duck Pond level become very low once the broken slab is removed."

 

Maurice looked crestfallen. "So if we want to swim..."

 

"I'd take advantage of the current depth while it lasts," said Miller. "The April showers will give you that in the short term."

 

o 0 O 0 o

The stone did need replacing. For the few days that the outlet was fully open, the Duck Pond became very shallow and the murkweed grew significantly. Some of the plant broke the surface but the April showers kept it damp. Forest Evergreen produced a sturdy replacement slab to our specifications and many of the Mallard Road residents assisted in putting it into the correct place. 

I had suggested that an artificial mechanism was added to the slab as a failsafe. A simple one whereby a ratchet could be engaged and a group of residents could manually angle the slab as required. The murkweed would need a short time to recover before it could continue its job.

o 0 O 0 o

Coltsfoot Ivory's intervention was well timed. A possible flood was averted as he calculated the April Showers would have caused the Duck Pond to overflow. This year, Colt, Miller Silverfur and the Mallard Road residents are watching the Duck Pond carefully but reports thus far indicate the murkweed has resumed the task it had performed for hundreds of years. No manual effort was required. That said, Colt has recommended that the failsafe is tested every few months. That comes as no surprise to me. He has pride in his work.

 

o 0 O 0 o

Note: See "The Future of Cherry Blossom Park" posted March / April 2025.

Springtime for Brendan

Hello. I suspect this will be a brief post; my current project is taking up my time. Whilst it should conclude soon so I'll be less reliant on Darcy and Cecile, I simply had to take time to share the following with you.

To recap, my boy Brendan enjoys inventing stories that he can act out with his chums. When he joined Ken Furbanks' little drama club he began to write out his little tales to contribute there. This has had the bonus of improving his school work. He still has the amusing habit of using some words that he doesn't fully understand but his spelling and grammar have improved immeasurably.

You may recall that Brendan and I had fun recently when I was working on a song for the school. It's clear he has a skill in writing parodies and his invented alternative lyrics for songs result in a lot of laughs. Years ago he came up with a parody of the advertising jingle we wrote for Rodentene toothpaste. Obviously that was not an isolated case.

I'm writing to highlight a poem Brendan had written about springtime. From what he said, he had some inspiration from the lyrical output of my songwriting partner and best friend Chris Snow-Warren, but even so it's typical Brendan.

o 0 O 0 o

The first I saw were snowdrops

But they arrived too soon

They'd got the month wrong yet again

and that burst their balloon.

Their nodding heads showed they were sad -

With nothing they could say, 

They'd miss the springtime party bash

As they would rot away.

The golden crocus missed out too -

A different reason why,

They were not like the snowdrops,

Their doom came from the sky.

Sparrows liked their yellowness -

Flew in to fill their beaks.

The purple nearly made it, 

just needing two more weeks.

Some flowers made the party -

The tulips and the daffs

and even a few primulas

turned up to have some laughs.

For springtime is a time of hope

where warmth and colour ping.

Let's follow their example 

and celebrate the spring! 

o 0 O 0 o

"What do you think, Dad?" he said. "Do you get it? The flowers all wanting to go to a party? Only some could make it but even those who couldn't tried to have a good time."

"It's very clever," I said. "You're doing well with your writing. Your grammar is getting better, but more than that."  

"Uncle Chris helped neaten it up but it's my idea and my rhymes. He told me about metal force so I used them."

"Metal force? You mean metaphors?"

"Hmm, maybe. I thought about having the flowers leaping about at the party. Springing, you see? I asked Uncle Chris what he thought but he said it was my poem. I should ask myself would it make it better. I then remembered what Mrs Robinson said about writing and how it was easy to overdo things."

Cecile came into the room at that point. 

"Oh hi, mum," said Brendan. "You were right. Dad liked my poem. He said it was clever. Beverley needs to know that. I think I'll go and tell her."

We watched him leave. Cecile gave an affected sigh.

"Oh, how will I cope with all these talented people around me?"

We looked at each other. A brief silence. Then an explosion of laughter. 

o 0 O 0 o

Brendan's use of words highlighted how he is growing - like his flowers. His springtime, I suppose you could say. 

Now that's a metal force.  

o 0 O 0 o

Darcy and the Pancake Toss

I've been a little busy these past few weeks and I've neglected doing any writing for Darcy. Shame on me. My darling Cecile decided to help me.

 

"I'll write something," she said. "It doesn't have to be long, does it? No? Do you want to look at it before I give it to Darcy?"

I hesitated briefly as I wasn't sure how to respond. Cecile won't look at my stories before I hand them over to my field mouse chum. Says she doesn't want to stifle my creativity and that she trusts me. Could I do anything less?

"Go for it, sweet wrinkle," I said, adding a wide smile. 

So she did.

o 0 O 0 o

Darcy and the Pancake Toss

Hello. I am Cecile Butterglove and I'm married to Jackson. I have a small story I'd like to share with you.

I was at the village store and I met Bridget Fielding. I hadn't seen her recently so we had a nice chat.

"Yes, the Christmas break was lovely," she said. "Darcy had the time to dedicate to his family. I know he loves his job and it's important to the village, but he had been overworking. Months ago I suggested he take on extra staff and he did that. Spreading the workload was necessary and it seems to have worked... mostly."

"Mostly?"

"It's his nature. Sometimes it feels difficult for him to relinquish control, at least when it relates to particular tasks."

"And he's doing that now, is he? Something seems to be bothering you."

"I'm that transparent?" said Bridget, forcing a smile. "Well you're right. You know what day it is next Tuesday?"

"Er... Shrove Tuesday?" I said, with Cake Club activities in my mind.

"Right. Pancake Day. And what does Darcy do every Pancake Day?"

I shrugged involuntarily. "Sorry. I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me."

"No reason you should know." Bridget sighed. "It's the Pancake Toss. Darcy always goes to report on it. Has done for years."

I was aware of the event. It was a celebratory occasion where (primarily) dogs came and... threw pancakes at each other to catch in their mouths. It is apparently hilarious and lots of pancakes are eaten. The most successful pairing holds the title of Pancake Monarch for the year.

"Right..." I said. "But I'm not sure why that's a problem this year. What's changed?"

"The date. Pancake Day falls on a different day each year. This year it falls on the 17th. I'd wanted to do something special with the family."

I suddenly realised. "February 17th. Darcy's birthday."

o 0 O 0 o

I had an idea based upon an old memory. Something that Bridget may not have known and maybe something that Darcy had forgotten.  

I've been friends with the Cakebread family for years. In our youth, Thaddeus Cakebread was part of my brother's gang of pals - the Burdock Bunch - and I was there when Thaddeus married Lydia. As Lydia and Veronica Cakebread run the Cakery on Mellowdene High Street our connection continues; I am part of the Cake Club after all! Anyway, the point is that I have an independent source of information about doggy activities.

The relevant activity this time? One of my Dandelion Lane neighbours is a former Pancake Monarch. As a consequence, he is particularly familiar with the techniques and strategies involved in the annual Pancake Toss.

Number 23 Dandelion Lane is the residence of Edmund Tailbury. And did you know that this former Pancake Monarch is a reporter for the Mellowdene Examiner? One of Darcy's newer employees!

So. My idea. Wouldn't a reporter, one who is a former champion of the Pancake Toss be the best person to write about this year's February celebration? Together with his brother they could share the insights of a winning team. Comment on strategy or whatever this year's winners bring to the event.

Surely Darcy cannot disagree? Especially as that would free himself to attend his birthday celebrations...

I outlined the idea to Bridget.

o 0 O 0 o

Bridget was happy. The Fielding children were happy. Edmund was happy to have his ideal reporting assignment. I made a birthday cake (happy about that) especially for the birthday boy.

Yes. That's you, Darcy. Now don't you say that you're not happy!

o 0 O 0 o

Editor's note: 

Yes, Cecile. I was happy how my birthday turned out. It does feel a little unusual publishing a story about me; one that I didn't write - but I didn’t miss out when it came to the Pancake Toss. Edmund gave me some pancakes upon his return.

Darcy Fielding