Why is it that when one thing goes awry, other minor disasters seem to follow. The oak whisky barrels that fell apart this past winter hadn’t been replaced and planted before the incident with the leeches.
It was while I was scooping out debris from the pond with my bare hands I noticed I had acquired wildlife attachments. It took me several minutes to pry loose a dozen of the ½-inch long critters, accompanied by no small amount of hopping and hollering. I’m not usually this squeamish.
But worms have always made me a little queasy. Worms that suck blood don’t even bear thinking about. Afterward, looking in the water, I spied dozens more waving about, just waiting for me to stick my hand in again.
A few years back I had discovered another sort of worm in the pond. Thinking these might be leeches, I went to the Internet and identified them as flatworms. These odd creatures are related to tapeworms and liver flukes but apparently eat mosquito larvae. So regardless of the ick factor, I decided to leave them alone. This time around, the Internet confirmed that these interlopers were indeed the real thing – leeches.
The water-garden expert I consulted told me leeches are a mark of a balanced pond ecosystem. She advised that if they weren’t attacking the fish, I should simply ignore them. If they weren’t eating the fish, the fish were probably eating the leeches.
How did the leeches get in my pond? They probably arrived as hitchhikers on an aquatic plant.
Another search of the Internet revealed that a pond with an abundance of organic matter is the perfect habitat for leeches. When the flatworms made their appearance, I must admit I became lax in pond maintenance. My pond was rife with organic matter.
For two weeks I tried to get used to the idea of leeches as pets. But I’m sorry to admit I failed this test of my environmental commitment. A fish kill from a late heavy snowstorm was the final straw. A complete purge was in order.
The pond was drained, and everything in it went into the compost bin (except for one piece of variegated water iris reserved in a moment of weakness and five tiny fish that survived). Roots of water iris, grasses, sedges, etc., had grown into a mat 12 inches thick, apparently creating a lush leech paradise.
Pond emptied, this was the perfect time to replace the liner guaranteed to last seven years, that at 17 years of age was long past its life expectancy. With respect to water shortages, the new pond is half the size of its predecessor. Restocked with plants and fish, there may still be leeches, but at least for the time being, I can’t see them.
Now something has to be done about the garden gate. A couple of days after the pond was completed, the gate disintegrated …
Marcia Tatroe is a garden writer and lecturer. E-mail her at Rlaurora@aol.com.
