Country diary: swanning around the river bank

Otley, Wharfedale: A pair of mute swans build their riverside nest in an exposed spot, untroubled by their urban neighboursThe distance to the end of my garden from the back of my "new" house (I moved in eight months ago) is about the length of a cricket pitch. Beyond it there is a lush line of trees and an intractable tangle of bramble, bindweed and balsam, which drops steeply down to the banks of the River Wharfe.Along this stretch of the Wharfe there is a corridor in which trees, weeds and animals have free rein, a sort of riparian republic buffered from the human world. Living within the breathing space of the river is fantastically noisy and eventful, like being in a Yorkshire jungle. Swifts scream above the trees, scything through clouds of midges and mosquitoes; kingfishers and grey wagtails flash their colours in the green; beetles clatter against the bright windows at night; the screeches of little owls often pierce my dreams. Continue reading...