The run up to Christmas is busy for most of us and that is especially true down by the river. I always like to make sure my mooring lines and lock sides look their best for the Christmas visitors and myriad obligatory photographs. I managed to take advantage of the brief dry window before the predicted wet and windy weather and give my mower a good run and cut Pyrford mooring line and lock. I spent much of the time behind my mower trying to calculate how far I’ve had to walk, as I often do to pass the time. I used to know exactly how far I had to walk behind a marker to line a rugby pitch, mower to stripe a bowling green and how far round my cricket boundaries were. But that was a lifetime ago. Now I have the luxury of a step counter to check my sums. I wasn’t far off, it turns out I mowed 4.18 miles.
The sheep are never as pleased to see me as the cows, which is always disappointing.
Magnus, Muriel and Mo the swans clearly aren’t impressed by my bridge decorating in an attempt to ramp up the Christmassy for everyone. (That’s Mo in the middle, the only one of the cygnets to make it this year)
I actually have my first Christmas Day off in the 6 Christmases since I got here which is great, but means that I am running out of time to get everything done. That, and the fact that we’ve got storms predicted in the next few days and no doubt trees down as a result, it’s not shaping up to be that peaceful a Christmas season. The Chinese curse of hoping you live interesting times might well apply. It might not be peaceful but it will be interesting but that’s ok by me.
Part of the job of looking after the river involves knowing what we’ve got so we can manage the landscape accordingly. To that end I’ve recently added another toy to the box. I’m trialing a trail-cam and it’s already getting some good images. So far I’ve just been setting it up in the garden so I can keep an eye on it, with the plan later of setting it up further in the wild where I know we have badgers and other wildlife and where I’m not sure what we’ll find. You just strap it to a tree and forget about it.
(!gnore the date..I’ve not worked out how to change it yet!)
This clearly shows what I already knew. Foxes and rabbits are visiting at night, although we’re clearly a bunny down after this midnight feast. And I’m pretty sure he knows I’m watching him!
I’ve also got a few nice daytime shots….
But to be honest, the majority have been more like this! My dog Tilley clearly also wants to know who’s been visiting her garden.
For those of you with an interest in wildlife I really can recommend getting one. Mine has only been out a couple of days and has already given me an insight into what’s been going on without me knowing. They are worth a try if you’re nosy like me and don’t cost a great deal anymore . (Mine was recently purchased cheaply from a national supermarket that shall remain nameless. Suffice it to say it was one of those shops where people in posh cars hurry to shove their produce into bags from an establishment they deem more prestigious and suitable for the neighbours to see.)
This year has been the best I can remember down by the river for autumn colour. The trees have not only put on a colourful display but a long lasting one. We’re almost in December (yes I know, I’m not organized either) and yet all of the trees down by the river have some leaves left and many are in still in their full, spectacular autumn best. The dry weather (until the last few days), cool nights and sunny days all create the best conditions for the best displays.
The science of it is fascinating. Briefly chlorophyll, the green pigment that creates the usual summer leaf colour, is made in much lower quantities when the days shorten. This means the sugars and other substances present in the leaves all year round (that give us the reds and yellows) become visible. With a dry spell these sugars become more concentrated in the leaves and so colours even more vivid.
With storm Angus due to arrive in Surrey over the weekend I took one last autumn photo expecting the wind and rain to put an end to the display but it is still going (fairly) strong. Even on a grey, rainy day when I haven’t slept for more than 2 hours in one go for a 2 nights straight due to the angry weirs, it’s still a joy to see the trees. Over the last couple of days I’ve seen them by torchlight, first light, moonlight as well as soggy day light and in all their moods they cheer mine.
That’s not to say I don’t love them when they finally shed their leaves and make spectacular shapes against the winter skies. That’s the great thing about nature, there is always something to look forward to just around the seasonal corner.
…..all the rage but nothing new.
Tidy tool shed tidy mind? Think I’m in trouble….
Working from home might be a new (and very welcome) change for those used to being tied to the long commute and office politics surrounding whether you put in for the leaving present of someone you don’t recall ever meeting, but on the river it’s nothing new. The lives of my spiritual predecessors since the 1650s ;the Wharfingers, Lock Keepers, Weir Keepers and past Lengthsmen were very much tied to the river, as mine is today. The Wharfingers looked after the loading and unloading of cargoes, safe passage of working boats and the charging and recording of their cargoes, no doubt among many other things lost in time. For that they needed to be on hand and know the river, its moods, the boats and the characters along the river and came to know its wildlife. All things I strive to do in my job today.
Not sure what the collective noun is for a group of Windlasses…
Granted, many of the tools I use today would be foreign to my counterparts of old but many remain unchanged. The windlass, well know to all canal boat users today, is the essential piece of kit for adjusting water levels. My particular set of weirs at Walsham have remained unchanged since they were installed in 1884. They were probably not much different before that, and that continuity is part of the joy of this place. That’s not to say that I’m not looking forward to our fancy new water level gauges that will replace (or more accurately probably join) the marmite lid I use to see if the water levels need adjusting. And I certainly wouldn’t want to give up my chainsaw (called Matilda – it’s a long story) or petrol strimmer (although my scything course was good fun) and the only horse drawn boat here now is purely for pleasure trips. It’s all about knowing the river then you’ll best know how to look after it.
However well you know a place and the wildlife in it, you will still be able to see something different every time you visit. Today I watched a butterfly ‘swim’ across the river. Definitely a first for me, and probably the butterfly too.
To be fair, it wasn’t by choice. I think I disturbed her from her early morning perch while I was strimming. She landed wing side up and by a process of wing flapping, wriggling and current riding she managed to make it to the other side and find some vegetation to cling to about 20 feet from where she went in. I have to confess my heart was in my mouth a little and I was contemplating launching the punt, maybe a slight over reaction for a single butterfly, but in the event she made it on her own. To the edge at least. Given that it was my fault she had had such a traumatic start to her day, it only seemed right to help her the last few feet to safety. It turns out that pole saws are the ideal rescuing device. They have a good long handle to (just about) ensure you don’t go in too and side on, a flat surface the perfect size to scoop a butterfly off its precarious reedy perch. After a few minutes drying off in the sun she flew off happily none the worse for her adventure and me with a close encounter that made my day.
Making it across is no mean feat when you are less than 3 inches across!
When you do a physical job and the forecast is for very warm weather, it makes sense to get ahead of the day. I planned ahead and got organised last night which meant I could be on site from 06.30 to mow and strim the lock side at Newark. That way I could get the heaviest jobs of the day out of the way while it was in the low 20s not the low 30s. The added bonus is you get some spectacular views, and some friends to talk to.
Sun rays through the trees at Newark Lock
Spider’s eye view of Newark Priory
The cow’s and I have an understanding. When I cut foliage that I know they are going to like, I leave it somewhere they can find it and they don’t look at me like I’m a total fruitcake (all the time) and they forgive me for mowing and making a noise first thing in the morning.
on a Friday afternoon, the way you do. Well, you do if you’re a Lengthsman. It’s a bit of a change of pace from smiling at butterflies and not what I’d planned for the afternoon, but that’s part of the fun. I always make a plan and a ‘To Do’ list but things very rarely go to plan, you’ve got to be able to roll with the metaphorical punches.
I got a call to say there was a bike under a bridge, clearly abandoned and dropped over the railings by its rider but probably not owner. It was reported to be in the perfect place and depth to snag an unsuspecting boat’s prop so it clearly couldn’t wait. As it was not on my length a boat rescue for the offending bike was impractical. It would take me well over an hour to get there so it was a case of loading up the van with the grappling hook and extendable boat hook and hoping my aim wouldn’t fail me. Plan B would have been waiting for Thames Lock to close and commendeering a punt and a Dave from there but thankfully it didn’t come to that.
Bike wrangling kit
Somehow I managed to catch hold of the frame with only my second swing of the grappling hook. I would like to claim it was pure skill, and I have had a fair bit of practice over the years, but I’m afraid blind luck was probably the main reason. That and the lack of an audience. It always goes much better without an audience, otherwise I’d probably still be there now.
Second time lucky (yes I know my work boots are overdue a clean)
Regardless of the reason the rope gods were clearly smiling on me and all it took was a little brute force to get it back on terra ferma. Now all that remains is to find out if it’s been reported stolen so I can reunite what’s left of it with its owner and if that draws a blank donate it to our local bike recycling scheme so it can have a new life somewhere else. Either way boats may safely pass without peril, which is a good couple of hours work.
The final pull to freedom