Martha's Marvellous Munchies

It was a breathtakingly beautiful morning. Attenborough Nature Reserve, which on my last visit had been all tossing trees and restless waves, sat serenely under a polished blue sky. The leaves were green, shading to gold, and the water shone in the sunshine. I passed some contented cattle and reached the riverside path. At a footbridge, a heron paddled among the weeds. Attenborough Nature Reserve is surprisingly large: the entire site is 560 acres, and the Nottinghamshire Wildlife Trust owns about two-thirds of it. That's a lot of lakes. Eventually I reached Beeston Marina, where a pirate in a crow's nest kept a stern eye on a bar and cafe. There was no trouble today; it was all quiet. A man approaching me remarked on the lovely weather, and then added, "Bit cold for skinny-dipping, though." I looked down at my long coat, leggings, and waterproof shoes, and wondered quite why he thought I might be about to strip off and jump in the river. Beeston Lock led to Beeston ...

The air was on the move. Vast mounds of atmosphere were in a hurry to get somewhere else, pulling leaves off the willows, pushing water into waves, flicking flags into a flap as they rushed past. The sky was full of sunshine and the world was full of sound. It was a good day to be out. At Trent Lock the ground was scattered with conkers: glossy brown nuts and their spiky cases. Ahead, past the Erewash Canal, the land was once farmland; then it was dug for gravel. Now the gravel pits are flooded to create a network of lakes and have been designated as a nature reserve. Immediately after Trent Lock I was on another man-made section of water: the Cranfleet Canal. There was a memorial by the River Trent sign - Bob's Spot - with flower spinners which were whizzing around in the wind. A long railway viaduct crossed the canal and the river, and boats were moored alongside the towpath, hopefully with anything loose well tied down. The canal section ended at Cranfleet Lock. From here I cont...