One of our marvellously talented volunteers has penned a delightful piece on the New River in winter under the pseudonym of eeL – which has been printed in the Exning News.
From the River Bank
The Exning New River chalk stream winds its way through a frozen landscape at this time of year, underground, overground, hidden on private land, appearing here and there to show herself as a living, moving body of water and a lifeforce. She sometimes smokes in the cold of winter, her own warmer waters seemingly letting off steam in the still and brittle-cold air as she meanders along behind St Martin’s Church, as she has done for centuries before any of us were here. At night she is black and shining and an owl watches over her, the water being apparently the only moving thing on a deep winter’s evening. All seems dead and cold at this time of year and the outlook gloomy – Spring is nowhere near yet and we’re in the abyss between the joys, lights and excitement of Christmas and the green hope of luscious, warmer times. But look a little closer…
There is still the odd stickleback, waving his tail as he wriggles against the current. And because there is, Eric is becoming more often sighted. Come on, you MUST have seen Eric?! The majestic, huddled, bright white little egret stands out in the gloom like a ghostly sentinel and potters downstream on his own. A young fox lurks, shy but cheeky, eyeing up the moorhen nervously bobbing about on the surface. Blackbirds bathe in the shallows (like the rest of us, it’s a bit cold for a wash but it has to be done!), the robin sits overhead singing his Spring song and telling us he knows something we don’t – the new season is coming! His enthusiasm and colour can’t be held back by a sharp frost, he has this year’s nest on his mind and speckled eggs and those never-ending worm feeds. If you’re a creature you can’t just go to the shops or do online dating – everything has to be planned and considered like a constant military operation, and the Troops are out down at the river!
The grey heron stands on the edge like an old man who’s seen it all before, not too keen to dip his toes. Cars pass not far from him, but he’s not fussed – as long as no one bothers him he’ll carry on with his fishing trip. He’s not alone though – the kingfisher is on his perch. Blink and you’ll miss him fly off it and back, leaving nothing but an electric blue streak in the air, he’s that fast! There’s a whole world out there, a thriving, busy world that’s not the one you know. It was there before you were born, witnessing the church bells and the bustling travellers and seeing many changes but, despite the challenges, persevering with more bravery and stamina than most of us can muster. You see that bit of dead leaf floating downstream? It glides and turns with each bump and eddy, no control over its journey as it’s carried down the water, running past you now, off out of sight, a disappearing speck going who-knows-where. But aren’t we all just that leaf? You may be stuck in a spin in an eddy or swept by a current or washed up on the bank, you may feel powerless on your journey or an insignificant bit of old flotsam with no say in where it’s all going. But all of life is here in this clear, beautiful stream, and all is of importance and value, everything supports everything else. All creatures living together, prey and predators, with all their struggles and cold and hunger and they try to survive as best they can and make the most of anything good that comes their way. We’re all trying to get to better, sunnier and easier days and this time of year is tough. Take a look at the New River and spend a moment in quiet solidarity with the natural world as we hunker down for a few more months. We may be scared or struggling or tentatively watching the world from our own ‘perch’. But listen to the wise robin as he tells you about the wonderful future he sees from up in his tree, exuberantly shouting the news over the churchyard with an enthusiastic heart like the Angel Gabriel himself. He has more adversity to fear than most of us, but he still stands at the top of that leafless, empty tree singing his beautiful song of positivity. And he’s sharing it with YOU.
© eeL
