The new year has brought deluge. One day after another of rains. Some gentle and constant, but the most persistent lashing against the windows and driving their way into every corner of our ramshackle barns. The soil, which just weeks ago was still cracked and fissured by summer drought, is now at saturation point. Springs are breaking through on the slopes and travelling over the surface because they have nowhere else to go and the stream that runs in the crease in the bottom of the valley has been boiling over and throwing itself at the twists and turns to redefine its contours.  

The alders that I planted to stabilise the banks ten years ago were placed at a sensible distance to give them time to get their fibrous roots established, but this much water is outstripping even their fast growth, so that several are already teetering on the edge where the banks have been eroded.