Natural World (General) Episodes

Happy New Year! New Years can be exciting times, marking new beginnings, a clean page, awakening dormant dreams and ambitions. However, sometimes it is not always like that. This year, in particular, many face the new year with trepidation, filled with anxieties, a sense of being overwhelmed and unable to cope. What do we do when the future looks dark? *Please note that this episode candidly discusses issues of mental health* Journal entry : 4th January, Wednesday. "Silver light on Cotswold ston...

Join us around the stove tonight, on a very cosy NB Erica that is currently ice-locked into a frozen landscape, as we think about the Fimbulwinter of old, and why Midwinter might be mid-winter after all! Journal entry : 14th December, Wednesday. “Ridges of frost form ribs on the sweep of hills. Two rooks throw calls against a sky Marbled by the setting sun. Beyond the horizon, a pheasant startles a distant wood. My fingers and toes burn. Episode Information: Water turning to stone Frost on ice -...

The night is chill and crisp, a bright moon rides the racing clouds and stars shimmer on the surface of the canal. It’s a perfect night for a night walk. Snuggle down and wrap up warm as you join me on a canal walk washed by moon light. Journal entry : 29th November, Tuesday “Reluctant daylight. The sun's cold shoulder. Three ducks bob on ruffled water. I walk on uphill Grateful for thick socks.” Episode Information: Earlier the night of the walk as darkness fell. Looking out of the bow of the E...

This weekend the clocks change (in the UK). These small markers in our calendars can touch us in deep ways. Join me tonight as we stop the clock, step out of time, and savour together the unspent, untouched hour as the world around us sleeps on. Journal entry : 28th October, Friday “Wild winds race ragged As starlings sport and shoal. Golden leaves, sherry warm, Stream head height across the canal. A flash of brave blue. A kingfisher Swims the leafy cataracts of air.” Episode Information: In thi...

The colours of autumn this year promise to be spectacular and the towpaths are being transformed by the brush of autumn’s artistry. Join us tonight as we drink in some of the sights and ponder why this season can evoke such a mixture of emotions within us. Journal entry : 11th October, Tuesday “A wash of gold afternoon light That fresh clean scent of damp earth And falling water The sluices are full and running, Laced with curtains of pearl and crystal. A yearling ewe, with her forelegs Knee dee...

This week much of the country fell silent for a while and that stillness was the occasion for a chance encounter and finding within the silence the music of bells among crow song. Join us aboard the Erica tonight as we are touched by the enigmatic qualities of bells and stillness. Journal entry : 21st September, Wednesday Dew, the smell of sheep and wet grass. Rooks jostle the lightening sky. The company of ducks hunched at the water’s edge Shake themselves awake And drop into the pool of water ...

There’s a warm welcome awaiting you under the heavy night skies of summer’s hinterlands. Tonight we meet a very special person with a lop-sided smile and who might be able to teach us to walk with elephants. Journal entry : 30th August, Tuesday. “Day’s end. I stand up here and try to see what is Infront of me. But the future is just a confused blur of uncertainty. When I look back, I can so easily draw-out the most intricate constellations that map the chaos of my footsteps of the paths that I h...

Although a little delayed, the long-awaited rain and thunder did eventually arrive. Join us tonight as we hunker down beside a young willow and enjoy, with a field full of crows, the wonder of a thunderstorm as it roars overhead and all the richness it brings. Journal entry : 19th August, Friday. “An impulse forage among the brambles on a Blustery day of tall clouds and sunshine. I pick the high berries, you the lower ones. I extricate you when a bramble thorns your sleeve. Thirty-seven years fa...

It has been a sweltering hot week with temperatures in the 30s (90F). Join me onboard NB Erica, on a hot August night just as the heatwave is about to break, as we listen for the rolling sound of distant thunder. Journal entry : 10th August, Wednesday “The last of today’s sun slowly climbs the dolphin-backed ridge of hill, colouring the broad cluster of oaks and tawny grass with long shadows. A few hundred yards from me A barrel-roofed lock cottage, Its red door peeling And windows now blind. My...

Join me this week as we moor on a still August night, under a proud stand of poplars studded with starlight and moonlight. Tonight, we explore the evocative power of scents and smells. Journal entry : 6th August, Saturday. "The sun is three fingers above the horizon and washes the bankside reeds with golden fire. Three ducks cast perfect wakes of Vs Slowly, swimming the channel of molten bronze. There is something ethereal about this light Like stepping from one world into another. The sun has a...

There is a spot of ground that is special to me. Perhaps you have one too. They often are not particularly attractive, but somehow they are places we can go to find quietness. Join me to tonight when we visit one of my special places as we go down to the cattle pond with the help of Wendell Berry. Journal entry : 27th July, Wednesday “Drifts of mist rise and ghost upon the water In the pre-dawn light. The air is deliciously cool. The heron is in the cow-splash down by the oaks I climb the hill A...

These are the long days. The days of heat and dust. The days of quiet skies and dulled colours. Days of eclipse and renewal. These are the dog days of summer. Journal entry : 23rd July, Saturday [should read 16th July - blame the heat!!] “Martins twist and flit around the large ash, Clustering in the branches like cockney parakeets. En masse they drop, forking down to the water surface, Swimming the air with dolphin-like grace. We slip the mooring ropes and leave.” Episode Information: Heading f...

With apologies for sounding like an asthmatic badger, tonight we explore the special qualities of an unremarkable dusk and why we can feel so at peace with it and the darkness it can bring. Journal entry : 28th June, Tuesday. “I stop work to breathe in the storm-wind And bathe in the whirlpool of its noise. My shoulders feel heavy As If I alone am holding up the blanket clouds That sag grey above my head. The water hose, snakes and hisses around my feet. Head upright, neck relaxed, the cob swan ...

This week has been one of extremes that encompasses the splendour of solitude and an onboard visit by three very enthusiastic police dogs (and a puppy)! Alongside all this, we took time to listen to some bats, watch the cygnets as the grow ever stronger and contemplate the hidden depths of the most surprising people. Journal entry : 8th June, Wednesday "The wind is kicking up among the branches of the ash and oaks while clouds as heavy as wet blotting paper begin to gather. There is that excitem...

I want to describe to you what I saw today, but I can't. We have so many words to describe and represent the most complex of concepts. Why then is it almost impossible to describe something so simple and ordinary as the colour of the water earlier today? Kathleen Jamie and Thomas Merton (with a little excursive with Hana Videen) help us to find some answers. Journal entry : 17th May, Tuesday "The hills are painted a dusty grey and the world is filled with the quietness of sheep, the cry of dista...

The archdeacon is one of the colourful local characters who live here. Irascible and combative, he is nevertheless an important part of the social life of this small portion of the watery world. He’s a feral domestic duck with a chequered past and a strong sense of his own importance. A rather restless, listless day resulted in me drinking a lot of tea and reflecting on him and the work of Donna Haraway. Journal entry : 16th April, Saturday "I like it up here. It's not miles away from anywhere,...

Just as the wind swung north with its sting of sleet and hail, the first batch of ducklings were hatched this week. It was a far from simple event! However, as winter attempted to reassert itself with some biting winds and sharp frosts, we are reminded that winter’s growl is no match for the roar of Spring. Journal entry : 1st April, Friday "Penny looks up at me, hunched and quizzical, As snow pellets and plum blossom fall. There is nothing remotely romantic about these driven, windblown, thin n...

This week’s episode is filled with sunshine, the scent of resin, and the soporific call of pigeon and dove as we explore a little further afield. A visit to Dad on the north Norfolk coast means a change in landscape. Find out why, even though I love walking, I am often very reluctant to talk about it with other walkers! Journal entry : 14th March, Monday "Fog. Penny and I walk through a soft chilled landscape. The canal is dark and glassy. A small patch of mist boils and parts As Cyril emerges, ...

Snuggle up comfortably as you join us on the NB Erica for a wild night and day as we ride the storms Dudley and Eunice. The poems of Ted Hughes, Louis MacNeice, A.A. Milne, William Blake, and John Betjeman keep us company as they take us through a day of roaring wind and rattling rain-squalls. Please note, the audio for this episode has been intentionally kept ‘dirty’ to capture the ambient sounds of a storm as experienced on a narrowboat and so any bangs, clicks, clunks, and other background no...

You join us tonight at the end of a rather windy day. There seems to be a fairly common feeling that we have been encountering a lot of blustery winds recently, both meteorologically and metaphorically. Tonight, we stoke the fire and reflect on the place of the wind in our lives, history and culture. Journal entry : “11th February, Friday. There’s a wrapping chill to the air And the scent of wet earth. Penny unsuccessfully tries to jump a large puddle. One some late winter days The way the sun s...

Join us on NB Erica on a blustery January night. The cold Wolf Moon is nearing its first quarter and the stars glitter like ice. After an unexpected delayed start to the New Year, we are back on air and with some exciting(-ish) news to tell you. Journal entry : “2nd January, Sunday. Hello New Year - this is me. You seem so big and dark and unknown, but I have known your brothers and sisters and I have learnt to revel in the days of their sunshine and find their special beauties under skies of st...

As tonight’s full moon is shrouded by the fog that rolls down the hill and curls and drifts upon the water join us aboard the NB Erica as we fall once more in love with the commonplace and overlooked things. The hill may not be named, or even be awarded a contour of its own, but it nevertheless is the place of gentle and unremarkable miracles. Journal entry : “17th December, Friday It didn’t take long For those three years of growth To lie cut upon the ground. Penny sniffs the torn and broken st...

Following the epic weather of the past few weeks, we go back in time to a period that best celebrated this type of weather. In this episode we explore why the enigmatic appeal of Anglo-Saxon poetry and its fascination (or even obsession) with winter casts such an enduring influence on our culture. It is the perfect type of literature for cold winter nights, but there are also other deeper traits that remain deeply rooted in our shared cultural memories that inform our attitudes to winter. Journa...

You join us on (another)stormy night, but this one is moonless and black as tar. It is the night of the new moon – the Cold Moon or the Long Night Moon. The phases of the moon give us an opportunity to contemplate the intricate play of cycles all around us and how the mirror, challenge and provide direction for our lives. Journal entry : “3rd December, Friday The tops of the trees is Shakespeare’s wood have disappeared in cloud. A defrosted world, smothered in mist and pearled with beads of wate...