I approach the pool from the north, I soon realise that this place I love is now as good as dead. The mature trees, shrubs and plants which once cloaked its banks, and provided cover for a heron, kingfisher, ducks, pike, trout, salmon and an entire micro-world of interdependent species, have been ripped out with a digger. In its place is a new farm track running adjacent to the river, complete with a barbed wire fence for its full length. I’ve seen more clear-fells and strip mines and factory farms than I care to remember, but few have hit me as hard as the change to this river.
