River Kent, looking downstream from MIller Bridge. 20 February Wind and rain relentless today. Yesterday afternoon there was some respite. From the Parish Church, the river flowed fast and silent, an olive brown. No water-birds at all. They must take shelter in vegetation and in eddies upstream. Nothing could swim in this turbulent river.
Stramongate Weir is always dramatic when the river rises. You can hear rocks in the river bed smashing together in the force of the water.
Stramongate Weir is always dramatic when the river rises. You can hear rocks in the river bed smashing together in the force of the water.
The power of the river is compelling- dangerous and beautiful. The stone-structure of the weir is lost to the volume of water thundering down, creating streams of bubbles. The RIver Kent rises and falls fast and already it is a little less high than this morning.
Friday's unceasing rain over Cumbria can only increase the risk of flooding.
Friday's unceasing rain over Cumbria can only increase the risk of flooding.
22nd February. A blustery, sunny morning. In the afternoon a blackbird sang through squalls of hail. Next morning, he sang in the rain in the darkness before dawn to an accompaniment of rainwater gurgling and bubbling in pipes and gutters, like the night when Francis Troy planted bulbs in Fanny Robin's grave and gargoyles gushed and splattered onto the earth and washed them away. In the darkness and rain, I mistook him for Hard's Darkling Thrush- his resilience.
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