Ponds

When we walk in the Suffolk countryside to the west of our house we religiously follow the footpaths marked on the Ordnance Survey maps. Many of them cut straight across arable land, following lines of ancient hedges grubbed up to create the field dimensions which modern mechanical agriculture requires.

Some of the farmers go to the lengths of marking the lines of the footpaths after they've ploughed, as if fearful that walkers might damage their crops by straying from the legal path. This is almost bizarre as, it seems to us, precious few people venture into this countryside. On our walk today, which lasted over three hours, we met one man and a couple with a dog.

In the small stands of woodland which survive in this controlled landscape lie ponds which have been there for centuries, this one with a fine old oak tree shading it. The landowner is planting some of his small fields with mixed trees and cares enough about his two ponds to build a wooden causeway along the line of the footpath which passes between them.

In the warm sunshine of early autumn we stopped to lean on the balustrade to watch the wildlife that congregates around the water, joined this morning by a friendly common darter which perched on Gill's arm.