I have this morbid fascination with the algae growing in my backyard pond. It creates the most intricate lacey patterns beneath the surface of the water. It clings to fallen twigs, rocks that border the edges. When tugged at it ever so gently, the scum tugs back. I delight in spending a few minutes on a warm, or lately chilly Saturday afternoon, with my hands in the cool water watching my fingers move like a weaver trying to remove as much as possible before the turbidity of the water makes it difficult to see what lurks below the surface. The task, clear the pond of this green, slimy, invasive form of life before it takes on a life of its own ruining the beauty of the water. Oh, such problems!
Perhaps it’s too much time and not the pond scum that I have on my hands these days.