‘GRAYLING, dace, brook lamprey, brown trout, stone loach, chub, minnow, stickleback… they all live here,’ he says.
I nod, approvingly, slightly in awe. But in my head I’m wondering how I only know about half these names. I am somehow missing something significant. I have lived on a Somerset freshwater stream for over 10 years, regularly paddling in it with my boys and exploring all the life within it – my wild-raised boys who can name every species of swimming, flying or crawling creature that occupies our patch. Some of the names – stickleback, minnow – I know well; I can still picture the watercolour paintings of them in books I had as
