Rhaslas Not just a Pond

Written by: Deborah Price

I sit beside this vast expanse of water, my vision completely encompassed with glittering blue, 
I blink and look up to the sunshine, before I lose myself, before I become magnetised by flickers of sunlight upon a moving mass of beauty.
I cannot comprehend why anyone would take away this marvel, a glory in it’s own right, but also a home to many, those around, and those who remain out of sight for fear of repercussions, 
A nest with eggs of lapwing can be stolen for a price, or for a meal for a hungry fox or badger.
Others come for the fishing, the elegant heron, like a dinosaur in flight, but oh so graceful, The ducks they love Rhaslas for they can dive the bottom for fish, for it is a rare pond, of shallow depth, no more than six in foot.
The algae and the pond weed is food fit for the gods, and sustains many types of wildlife, and the view of the pond and it’s inhabitants sustains the soul.
I beg of you sit there for an hour, on a sunny or cloudy day, sit on the bank and listen, and look out at the sights,
If I am not mistaken you will feel rejuvenated and new, and above all you will know that I have told the truth to you.