For twenty years, my backyard pond had been the heart of our family gatherings. The kids learned to swim there, we held summer barbecues by its banks, and the frogs’ evening chorus was my favorite lullaby. That all changed when Derek moved in next door five years ago with his constant complaints about nature’s sounds.
“I can’t sleep with that racket!” he’d shout over the fence every morning. “Those damn frogs have got to go!” I’d just smile and remind him that country living came with nature’s soundtrack included. Little did I know how far he’d go to silence it.
When I returned from visiting my sister Margaret upstate, the sight stopped me in my driveway. My beautiful pond – filled with dirt like it never existed. Mrs. Carter from across the street came rushing over, wringing her hands. “They showed up with a backhoe yesterday, Agnes! Said they had authorization papers!”
My hands shook as I dialed my daughter. “Mom, we’re calling the police right now!” Clara insisted. But I had a better idea. That little wildlife camera we’d installed to watch the herons? It captured everything – Derek supervising the crew, pointing where to dump the fill, even laughing as they buried decades of memories.
The next morning, I made three phone calls. First to the Department of Environmental Protection about the “protected wetland habitat” that had been destroyed. Then to my grandson Lucas at his law firm. Finally, a quiet chat with Derek’s wife Linda when she came home from work.
By week’s end, Derek was facing $50,000 in EPA fines for destroying a protected ecosystem. The look on his face when the officials handed him the citation was almost worth losing the pond. Almost.
Linda turned out to be the surprise hero in this story. Turns out Derek had lied to her, claiming the town had ordered the pond filled. When she saw the camera footage, something in her snapped. Two weeks later, I woke to the sound of heavy machinery – not taking away, but giving back.
Now my pond sparkles brighter than ever, thanks to Linda’s insistence on full restoration. Derek? He’s living with his brother in another state. Linda and I have become unlikely friends, often sitting by the water’s edge sharing stories. She says losing her husband was worth gaining a real neighbor. I say some lessons come with frogs included – and they’re worth every ribbit.
