The river which forms the eastern boundary of our farm has always played an
important part in our lives. Without it we could not make a living. There is
only enough spring water to supply the needs of the houses, so we have to pump
from the river for farm use. We tell river all our secrets. We know
instinctively, just as beekeepers with their bees, that misfortune might
overtake us if the important events of our lives were not related to it.#
We have special river birthday parties in the summer. Sometimes we go upstream
to a favourite backwater, sometimes we have our party at the boathouse, which
a predecessor of ours at the farm built in the meadow hard by the deepest pool
for swimming and diving. In a heat wave we choose a midnight birthday party
and that is the most exciting of all. We welcome the seasons by the riverside,
crowning the youngest girl with flowers in the spring, holding a summer
festival on Midsummer Eve, giving thanks for the harvest in the autumn, and
throwing a holly wreath into the current in the winter.#
After a long period of rain the river may overflow its banks. This is a rare
occurrence as our climate seldom goes to extremes. We are lucky in that only
the lower fields, which make up a very small proportion of our farm, are
effected by flooding, but other farms are less favorably sited, and flooding
can sometimes spell disaster for their owners.#
One bad winter we watched the river creep up the lower meadows. All the cattle
had been moved into stalls and we stood to lose little. We were, however,
worried about our nearest neighbors, whose farm was low lying and who were
newcomers to the district. As the floods had put the telephone out of order,
we could not find out how they were managing. From an attic window we could
get a sweeping view of the river where their land joined ours, and at the most
critical juncture we took turns in watching that point. The first sign of
disaster was a dead sheep floating down. Next came a horse, swimming bravely,
but we were afraid that the strength of the current would prevent its landing
anywhere before it became exhausted. Suddenly a raft appeared, looking rather
like Noah's ark, carrying the whole family, a few hens, the dogs, a cat, and
bird in a cage. We realized that they must have become unduly frightened by
the rising flood, for their house, which had sound foundations, would have
stood stoutly even if it had been almost submerged. The men of our family
waded down through our flooded meadows with boathooks, in the hope of being
able to grapple a corner of the raft and pull it out of the current towards
our bank. We still think it a miracle that they were able to do so.&