Yesterday a storm front blew in and passed over head. In front of it the warm summer air and behind it the cooler air of autumn. I didn’t realise until it had passed but the difference was clear and defining. Today the wind is feisty, autumnal, and its effects on the trees dominates the sonic space. Imagine being a tree, or a nomad, constantly at the mercy of the elements. No wonder the leaves are browning, yellowing, reddening, having endured months of intense sunlight, rain, wind, with no respite. Those fragile paper thin structures, so hardy.
I have come on a Friday to avoid the hordes, families, paddleboarders, dog owners, smokers, and sometimes that’s just one person, screaming, splashing, smiling, relaxing. Living. But that’s not for me. I prefer the quiet solitude of off-peak. I usually prefer off-piste too, but this project is otherwise, out of my comfort zone and into the spotlight, but doing what I enjoy most.
Pond skaters, ducks, the weir letting the Stour trickle through, holding it back, keeping it slow and steady, like the rental revenue on those flats in the Mill building. It is a different mill to in Constable’s time, but still. It stands as a monument to industry, labour, the effort of those generations making their daily bread, surviving, working for the man. It is strange that in just one spot, place, so many decisions, influences, powers, monies, have come to gather to make a once navigable river to transport goods, from Mistley, where seagoing vessels were unloaded on to Lighters (barges) as far inland as the ‘port’ of Sudnury. And then to transport different goods in the reverse direction. Just a few decades later and it was superseded by the railways.
A man on a strange paddle board/seagoing kayak/super yacht hybrid, lots of berries on the trees in readiness for winter, some harsh pruning. He notices me, and the kit, and studies us for a while before paddling off. I have swam in this mill pond several times but the water quality is too bad now, my trunks staying put in their new drawer for a good few months yet. ‘Danger: Deep Water’. I hope someone is in deep water and that CEO’s the land over are carrying the can for the unacceptable state of the Countries waterways. A woman in a puffer jacket taking a photograph across the pond, a damsel fly, which is one of the 22 species on this river, I am unable to tell which, a woman jogging, fish making swirls on the waters surface, a dark cloud covering the sun and turning off the heat.
One day this place will not be here, and all of the memories of it will be gone.
A sock in a tree, a bus heading to Dedham, a motorbike, those with the loudest mouths, exhausts, will be remembered, a man looking at the mic as he goes by, two people all dressed in blue with binoculars, the fish trying to catch flies just above the waters surface, a couple that I have seen four times walking their dog but the man walks ahead followed by the dog pulling the woman reluctantly along, a strimmer or maybe a hedge trimmer.
Watch the whole hour on YouTube https://youtu.be/clQXSbnL3DY