Lily and I are not long back from a walk along the Grand Union canal. My father-in-law’s house is 150m from the canal, and as soon as you step into the path, you’re in a different world. Gone is the noise of traffic and the urban landscape of this old midlands town, and in its place tranquility, wildlife and history.

Our great Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh wrote of canals. The one that reminds me most of this evening’s walk is Lines written on a seat on the Grand Canal, Dublin

O commemorate me where there is water, 
Canal water, preferably, so stilly
Greeny at the heart of summer. Brother
Commemorate me thus beautifully
Where by a lock niagarously roars
The falls for those who sit in the tremendous silence
Of mid-July.  No one will speak in prose
Who finds his way to these Parnassian islands. 
A swan goes by head low with many apologies, 
Fantastic light looks through the eyes of bridges - 
And look! a barge comes bringing from Athy
And other far-flung towns mythologies.
O commemorate me with no hero-courageous 
Tomb - just a canal-bank seat for the passer-by.

The Grand Union here in the heart of England and the Grand Canal in Dublin that inspired Kavanagh share histories of labour and purpose, of economics and progress, of industrialisation and irrevocable change. Today, they are wildlife refuges through urban landscapes in which wildlife so desperately need refuge.

Here’s some of what we saw this evening…