At last a day of sunshine breaks the mists, gales and prevailing dullness. Mosses, lichens, ferns and flowering camellias thrive in the mild damp and, before Christmas, an unusual drop of holly leaves accumulated in fresh green drifts. On our waterlogged lawn, a pair of pigeons regularly waddle, grazing on celandine, dandelion and daisy leaves, and a tentative song of thrush speaks of spring too early.
On this rare interval of winter brilliance, wooded tracks are traced with tree shadows, but the narrow lanes oriented east-west remain cold and sun-free all day. At Calstock, in full sun, the cobbled quays, once heaped with mineral ores, are crowded with the cars of residents and new year visitors. The River Tamar’s tide ebbs fast, water running brown below the shining mudbanks and beds of bedraggled reeds.
On the opposite bank, even the smoke rising from Ferry Farm’s chimney remains in shade. The nearby river cliff of Buttspill Wood is dark too, casting its shade across the narrow channel, and chilling this side’s discovery trail, which skirts the dazzling expanse of managed wetland that was opened in 2021 as part of a flood-defence scheme. A local photographer with her telephoto lenses tells of this morning’s sighting of teal, common sandpiper, wigeon, and four skulking water-rails, beneficiaries of this developing intertidal habitat of mud, open water, pools and salty vegetation.
Downriver of this sparkling mirror, the horizon extends past the railway viaduct towards Cotehele’s hilltop prospect tower, and far-off Kit Hill. Ahead, the curve of Maddacleave Wood, just over the border in Devon, is marked by the distinctive cracked and leaning stacks of Gawton Mine.
The path continues upriver, past the sewage works and quay for the Okel Tor mine that once produced copper, tin and arsenic, employing 200 people at its peak in the 19th century. Now, some of the mine buildings provide accommodation, and the stamps engine house and stack have been re-roofed and stabilised. Arsenic works and burrows merge with sun-dappled tree trunks and glistening ivy leaves, all overlooking the tidal channel once plied by sailing vessels to and from Morwellham, yet another mile up this sinuous waterway.
• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at guardianbookshop.com and get a 15% discount
