Over the last 3 months, I’ve been dipping into a longer project organised by the Ribble Rivers Trust. Specially cooled aquaria were installed in 6 schools in Burnley who went on to hatch 100 trout eggs each so that the school communities can watch these first few weeks of trout-life before releasing the fish into the rapidly improving River Ribble
My friend, musician Steve Brown and I visited those 6 schools to write poems and stories and make music inspired by this process. The resulting artwork reinforced the experience and has been helping us share the excitements and anticipations of The Hatching with a wider public
“In the past, industrial and agricultural pollution as well as water abstraction and inadequate sewage treatment have caused severe habitat damage to the Ribble and its tributaries, to such an extent that the wildlife supported by the river has been put under threat. The Trust was established in order to enhance the water environments of the catchment, by restoring and protecting the river to make certain that future generations can enjoy the beauty of its wildlife and fauna.” – introduction from the Trust’s website
Activities began back in January with a day with the Canalside Community Association
Then, first sessions in schools, explored the early days of trout-life as the eggs hatched, golden pearls releasing tiny fry into the world and we wrote about rivers and made pop-up landscapes of riverbeds and redds (gravel bed nests where trout spawn)
This is a silver stream, so cool and fresh as can be
Fish eggs like little beads
Eels as big as santa’s bag of treats
The robins sing in such harmony
Freezing through the splashing, popping,
Water rushing stones
Water bubbles
Huge strong rocks blocking the icy flow
Water smashing over rocks
Splashing people,
Water thrashing,
Water crashing,
Soaking the grass,
Running on into the pool.
Slowing down, running wider,
The river slips into a pool,
Dark ice-cold water
Deep water, calm water, ripples meandering,
Slow carp in deep pools,
Grasping weeds to pull you down,
Down to the stones where the eels live,
Small fish, silver fish, white fish darting,
Fast as arrows, lightning flickers
Kingfishers dive, chasing fish
Graceful swans glide across the pool,
Carp sneak like ghosts through weeds and water
Trout blend in brown as sand, as stone as shadows
Moss everywhere, under water, on the bank, over the stones, up the trees,
On the stepping stones where you wobble across the pool
Otters waiting
Big trout hunting
Deep dark, cold as ice
Yellow lightning flashes,
Thunder crashes!
Rain comes splashing down!
Every raindrop feeds the flood.
The river overloaded, bursting, flowing to the sea
A soggy disaster, dirty, nasty mess
Huge, wet, destroying, damaging
We are left disgusted, exhausted, vulnerable
But now the river escapes to the sea.
