Country diary: A seal so close I can see its nostrils flaring | Tom Allan

River Dart, Devon: It probably came here for the shoals of grey mullet, but just for a second, it's more interested in me and my paddleboardThere's a lull between the storms, and for the first time in days it's calm enough to take out my stand-up paddleboard. It's 7.30am, and on this sheltered tidal creek on the River Dart, the water is barely moving: a gentle pulse in the scum line along the beach is the last gasp of the tide's energy.When I join the main course of the Dart, the water state changes. Here the river is thick with leaves and smashed twigs, and it's moving with purpose. A day's worth of Dartmoor rain is flowing downstream, encouraged by the tide, which has just begun to ebb. I shorten my stroke, working hard to maintain momentum. My aim is to paddle a couple more masochistic kilometres upriver, then turn and enjoy an effortless glide downstream. Continue reading...