We were fortunate on this small river of ours: no great damage or disruption. For which we give thanks. Normally this is the time when the salmon move up to their spawning grounds, passing within yards of us. One man saw a salmon leap twice. Or maybe it was two salmon once. But, for the most part, the water was muddy, and you could not go out at night and watch their progress with a torchlight (hoping that you won't be taken for a poacher). But the sight of a three-foot salmon lying in shallow water, as happens sometimes in other years, is moving. As far as bank and other damage goes, not much; just here and there scruffy jetsam - old fencing posts and the like. But the flood had force: a tree trunk that had come down river a few years ago had such potential for damage that a wise man anchored it securely in a part where the river was wide, and drew it in close. He linked it securely, fore and aft, with a chain to a hefty spike on the bank. Gone. Not a sign of it even half-a-mile down river through a bridge. For the rest, detritus where the waters came over the base of the ox-bowl: sticks, grasses, torn-out bushes. No great bank damage.
Last big flood here was on November 27th, 1995 (our friend has it in his diary). The waters came well up the cattle-dip and is marked by a four-inch-thick hawthorn post. This time the water did not reach as far. The river has suffered a lot from the factory-blaze of some years ago upstream where chemicals got washed into it when the hoses were put on it. Fish life was wiped out for miles. Now with Gerry Farrell's advice that there should be no restocking from other sources, that the river should be left to heal itself, the wisdom is apparent. Presumably some fish have come downstream and others have come upstream. Already trout of reasonable size have been caught. The crayfish didn't seem to be affected: they may not be under every stone but they are in goodly numbers. Who eats them? Apart from the bigger birds? (Once or twice a cormorant has appeared and left after a day or so.) The mallards went before all this. The dipper was a casualty of the poisoning, and there is only the occasional sighting of a kingfisher, though that was long after the wipe-out.
Have otters left us for ever? Some dropping have been seen on the old otter-stone. Not green and oily as before, the same shape and same content - crayfish remnants chiefly. A young otter? Same is reported from upstream. A mink? Hope not.
The usual two ravens, crossing at day's end, still swing round towards the house and croak once. Meaning perhaps: "Wait and see. Patience." Y