The Pump Fails

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Pond at twilight

We always thought the pump was reliable. It has refreshed the water for us by circulating  it  through  the  terracotta  dragon  for  countless  years  of  our  group  memory.

Then during The Storm we heard loud bangs from far away and the pump stopped.

In the morning the cat, Sasha told the human our pump was not working, but she took no notice. We could see him putting his paws up to her and fastening his eyes on her, but all she could hear was meowing. She pushed him off.

She was busy getting the quince tree branches sawn off  when she noticed she could not hear water falling.

‘The Pump is dead,’ she cried out.

‘My fish may die!’

That was bad news. Fortunately the man sawing the quince tree managed to revive The Pump. He cleaned out the silt and it came to life. Then he replaced the tube running through The Dragon and torrents of water rushed through, much  more  than  before .

Here we are at twilight in our invigorated water.

Good morning

We sleep. It is dark. Sometimes the artificial light comes on and drifts over the centre of the pond. As we sleep together, fins gently touching grass and weed and one another, we see the striped angles of the light in the water.

Morning: the sky roof lightens. We rise for food. Blessed be the day and blessed be the night.