Williamson's Weekly Nature Notes February 11 2009

MY father used to play Pooh sticks when the world of falling shares, sliding sterling, publishers' predictions and traffic jams got him down. Anyway, he thought nothing could be worse than the Trenches.

So he dropped a stick, saw it splash, walked to the sunny side of the bridge and watched his little boat float off into the distance. That's what Sussex folk have done over the Rother far back in time. That is what the bridges are for.

Listen to the water, look at the alder leaves, watch the damselflies in summer and hear the suck of a trout in the big grey swirling pool. Kingfishers live on the river again in spring when they return from coast.

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Once or twice I've seen that long blue line they leave on the memory as they speed underneath the arches. Nearly every bridge has a very special tenant too. I see one quite often, perhaps not as commonly as one would on a Welsh or Westmoorland stream.

Grey wagtails are grey on the back but have a yellow tummy. They bob their very long tail up and down as if in curtsey to the king. They are often quite tame. They love the splashy places or the slides where water runs silver down the old smooth stones.

Here they run about, bouncing like a little toy, flicking here and there to catch a tiny fly. They will perch a second on the parapet as you lean on elbows and take little notice if you hold your breath. The sandy shillets of the water's edge, where the heron has left his trident toe in passing, will have our wagtail's footprint too.

Up to 50,000 pairs of grey wagtails live in the British Isles. But even the fairly frosty spell we had in January can cut that number by a third. Given a warm spring the first eggs, laid in nests built in holes in walls, bridges and banks, may number as many as five though the usual number is four. There may be three broods, the last completed into late summer.

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The grey wagtail quite likes to be in the company of people. I even saw one passing through the centre of Chichester recently following the underground course of the river Lavant.

Oh, and by the way, you are ten times more likely to see one than you would a kingfisher of which there are only 5,000 pairs in our islands. So forget the recession. Go and play Pooh sticks and you'll be surprised at what passes under the bridge and comes out on the other side of your life.

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