Invasive fish, poisoned water and the environment agency

My second Friday walk of February was mostly about getting inspiration for my next book. Half a plot was whirring around in my head and Miller’s Pond, Botany Bay and Sholing played pivotal roles. Well, they might have, if I could get all the twists and turns untangled in my mind and persuade the characters to speak to me. For some reason, I imagined sitting watching the ducks and coots on the pond might start them chatting or at least inspire me in some way. The first obstacle came when I reached the Miller’s Pond pub.

Workmen were digging up the road opposite the pub. Their vans blocked the view of oncoming traffic, but walking in the road was the only way to get past. The workmen leaned on their digger, smiled and watched me struggle. I muttered curses under my breath, but managed to survive the ordeal. If there’s any justice in the world, they really will suffer a plague of boils on their backsides that stop them sitting in comfort for a fortnight. Harsh, but fair punishment, I thought.

As I went through the kissing gate, the sun shone through the bare branches, creating shadows on the trail. The dew-covered leaves sparkled, and I exhaled a long, slow breath, releasing my earlier anger. There’s nothing like a woodland wander to make things feel better, and I was looking forward to a little quiet contemplation on a bench and the carton of chocolate milk in my bag. Then I spotted something else glistening in the morning sun. It looked very much like a wire fence. If it was blocking the trail, I might have to tussle with the workman again.

I quickly discovered that the path was passable, but this didn’t make up for the worrying sign pinned to the fence. What on earth was an ‘invasive fish?’ Why did the Environment Agency need to ‘eradicate’ said fish? Most importantly, how would the ducks, newts, coots and other wildlife cope with the ‘harmful chemicals in the water?’ Through the wire, the boggy part of the pond looked dry. Had they drained it? So many questions were bubbling in my head, I’d totally forgotten my mission.

The wire fence went on and on, and the scene behind it looked like some kind of post-apocalyptic dystopia. Where there should have been water, there was mud, and the bare trees added to the desolate aura. This was not turning out to be the morning walk I’d expected. A feeling of deep foreboding settled over me. When I reached the benches, I’d have to do a Google search to find out exactly what was going on.

When I reached the benches, I got another shock. There were no benches. In fact, the whole place was unrecognisable. The viewing platforms, and even some of the trees, had disappeared, and it was now clear that the fence encircled the whole pond. Most worrying, I couldn’t see a single duck or coot. Reeling with shock, I stumbled back to the road and headed for the railway arches. What would happen to the stream running through Mayfield Park if the water had been poisoned?

I’ve written about the history of Miller’s Pond before, so I won’t repeat myself too much now. Suffice to say, it started out as a millpond, and the mill, Weston Mill, was on the other side of the railway line in Mayfield Park. The mill is long gone, and the stream that turned the mill wheel has been culverted but still runs through the park. My post from February 2016 also has lots of photos of what the pond would normally look like at this time of year, so if you’re interested click the link.

When I got across the road, the first thing I did was peer over the wall at the water coming through the culvert into the Mayfield Park stream. I’m not sure what I expected to see. If there was poison in it, it wasn’t visible. In fact, it looked much as it always does. The word poison worried me, though, so I went through the gate into the park. All thoughts of Botany Bay, Sholing and my next book had vanished.

Several woodland trails meander through Mayfield Park. The one I was interested in was the Butterly Walk. It would be a miracle to see butterflies at this time of year, but it follows the stream. Unlike the pond, the stream isn’t teeming with ducks and other waterfowl. In fact, for the first half, it’s hard to make it out through the trees. Truthfully, my mind was too full of the poison issue to enjoy the walk as much as I might have. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became. The stream runs through the park to the Archery Ground, then through Jurds Lake and into the sea at Weston. If the water was filled with poison, wouldn’t it end up in the sea? Surely there had to be a better, safer way for the Environment Agency to get rid of these ‘invasive’ fish?

Looking back at my photos, my preoccupation is clear. Usually, I take so many pictures I end up with far more than I can ever use. On 10 February, I’d only taken two by the time I reached the bridge. One was of some interesting fungi, but I only took one shot, and it wasn’t a very good one. All I could think about was the poisoned water.

The bridge is the first place you can really see the stream. When I reached it, everything looked as it always did. No dead fish floating, no warning signs or wire fencing. It was a puzzle because whatever they’d put in the water at Miller’s Pond must be flowing through this stream towards the sea. Was I missing something?

I crossed the bridge and stood for quite a while, contemplating the water. This is a favourite place for dog walkers and I often see dogs swimming here. If the signs at Miller’s Pond were to be believed, there were harmful chemicals, surely there should be warnings here too?

On I walked, hardly noticing where I was putting my feet. Thankfully, the new duckboards they put in a while back saved me from getting stuck in the mud.

I haven’t walked this trail since the lockdown. Back then, local people had put fairy doors in the trees to amuse the children. If any of them were left, I didn’t see them, but I wasn’t really looking. In fact, I wasn’t paying much attention to anything.

I’d forgotten all about the fairy doors until I came to my fairy tree. By then, I was almost at the Archery Ground. I thought about walking to the shore and returning home through Peartree, but my worries over the poison stopped me. Instead, I headed up towards the Archery Ground, and after sitting on a fallen tree to drink my chocolate milk, set off for home.

If anyone else is worrying about the poison and what will happen to all the ducks and other creatures, this is what I discovered when I got home. Hopefully, they know what they’re doing, but I will watch with interest, and let you know.

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