River Ock ramblings

I've had a longing of late to reconnect with our surroundings and the life we share our local watercourses with. It's been with apt joy that I've been reading Views of the Ock and it's inspired me to take the time to venture further afield and wander the banks of a river I've pretty much taken for granted. I never realised how much wildlife the Ock hosts until I read this wonderful blog, and Rob and I thought we'd take the opportunity to walk part of its course whilst we explored the route of the old Wilts & Berks canal. I blogged about this part of the canal once - it's been four years since last we ventured there. Four years. How could we have left it so long?

We started our little Ock adventure in the early evening, whilst daylight still showed us our way, and we followed the footpaths that led away from houses and superstores, and towards the roar of the busy A34.

My northern soul wants to call it a beck.

We found 14 Second World War anti-tank dragon's teeth tucked away and abandoned in the undergrowth:

Here be dragons... teeth.
(identification courtesy of OckViewer)

Whilst still within the confines of the noisy world of humans we saw only baby moorhens and a grey heron (not at the same time, I hasten to add). But soon we passed under the dual carriageway and open fields beckoned us.

Under the A34. Hey, wait for me!

Here there was a lovely air of abandonment that gave the impression that we were the only wanderers to walk these paths, though I doubt that this was true.

Bridge needs a little work.

Corn stubble, perfect for hares to hide.

It was in these fields of stubbled corn that we saw our first hare bound along the hedgerow. We paused to watch a while before continuing on our way as five partridges scuttled into the tall grass in front of us. It was in this field too that we heard the plaintive keeow of a buzzard. We observed his lazy circles over the treeline before he disappeared out of sight on the other side of the river. With fading light we were unable to get a decent photo, but we continued to walk until day fell fully into night and the moon rose high to guide us.

I'm not saying the moon rose specifically for us, but he definitely helped.

And just as we turned our tails to retrace our steps home a red deer darted across our path. A good wildlife haul already spotted, or so I thought, before a badger snuffled his way into the middle of the field to have a root about. We were motionless as we watched him, afraid that the slightest movement would disturb him. He too, retraced his steps, and returned into the darkness of the hedgerow from where he came.

Back under the underpass we stopped as bats flitted about us, so close I thought I would be able to reach out and touch them. They flew low over the water and skirted above our heads, just as they do when we're sat on the front of our boat on a warm summer evening. But this wasn't the end of our wildlife spotting. There was one more fellow who made himself known before we fully returned to the world of humans. A fox, stealthy in the night, turned to take us in his gaze, swished his tail and was gone into the darkness.

The river Ock may be little, but life abounds about her in the liminal space between day and night, and it was a privilege, for a moment, to experience it.

Ghost canal: the Wilts & Berks Canal.

In October 2011 I wrote a potted history  about the Wilts and Berks Canal and started to document our walks along the route of the old system. My blogging unfortunately fell by the wayside and I only ever posted the Abingdon section of our walks. We did, however, explore farther afield than the boundaries of our little  town. My photo collection of those days is very muddled and my brain a little foggy too, but I always planned to return to the project.

One of the sites we visited, just off the Hanney Road at Steventon, was Ardington top and bottom locks. Two locks that are remarkable in their state of preservation considering the century that has passed since they last saw boat traffic. They are separated by the Great Western Railway main line that eventually aided their demise.

Today, after a day of rain and grey skies, we thought it would be lovely to revisit the locks and see what still remained.

We sat on the bridge over the cut at the bottom lock and ate our lunch - starving after fighting our way through the undergrowth and the paths-less-travelled to get there. The years of neglect are beginning to take their toll on this part of the canal. One of the lock gates is still in the channel but it is rotten and decaying, and the walls beside it are crumbling in.

The top lock is faring better. One gate still hangs, as it did on our last visit, but it looks precarious and ready to topple. When we first arrived here in 2011 it was autumn and the vegetation had died back. Today we frequently lost the path and our bearings through the undergrowth. This place is beautifully wild in the hazy summer season. Deer tracks are visible in the mud, and the canal is bordered by fields of bronzed wheat and barley. Here we were in the space between the forgotten and the mundane. Here lingered the ghosts of old boats, of journeys across the west country, of commerce. Here a robin proudly guarded his territory, and nature swallowed the brickwork of man's endeavours and his visions of success. It is beautiful. It is quiet, but it is not lost. If the canal is restored the Wilts and Berks Canal Trust will reopen this passage and traffic will once again flow through this abandoned landscape.