Wandering around Leigh . . . by Caroline Knighton

October 4, 2012

I remember finding Two Tree Island, not that it had been lost, rather that I had not long moved to Leigh and was trying to find the local tip (Civic Amenity Site, as it’s called – it’s the local tip really).   As has been my way for as long as I can remember, I got lost and sailed past the tip entrance and onwards, over the potholed road, into what appeared to be countryside – countryside with the sea attached to it, that is.  It was not dissimilar to the Norfolk coast, but surely I wasn’t that lost…?  As we progressed along the road/pothole track my son, aged 4 at the time, declared “this a beautiful place” – and so it was and so it still is.  We went back the next day, on purpose this time, with 6 month old Dalmatian in tow – yes, we had found the perfect dog walking spot.  We’ve found many more equally lovely  perfect dog walking spots since, but to us,  Two Tree Island is still known as ‘the beautiful place’, not least because we can’t find two trees.

Some while after first discovery of ‘the beautiful place’, I found that there is in fact the nature reserve on the other side of the road as well.  Also very lovely, the reserve is notable for the ‘nuclear pond’ – an enclosed stretch of water separated from the sea/marshes by a natural pathway.   I’m pretty sure that there’s not actually anything nuclear about the pond at all – after all, many varieties of duck and gull happily glide around there; it’s just that the dog always emerges an alarming shade of luminous green, not dissimilar to the nuclear rods in ‘The Simpsons’ cartoon.  Still, it doesn’t seem to do him any harm….  

Of course, it is wholly unnecessary to visit any of the local nature reserves in pursuit of nature.  In one summer alone, I have uncovered my garden compost bin to find mice staring up at me, snakes staring up at me and assorted unattractive grubs, slugs and bugs who may, or may not, have been staring up at me.  Hard to tell, their eyes could be anywhere.  I’ve also found a tiny frog on the side of the dog’s water bowl in the kitchen, a veritable graveyard of frogs on the lawn (it’s a matter of who sees them first, myself or the dog – but he only wants to play…), that’s a lawn I’m lucky to have, by the way,  as badgers spent a happy night ripping it up shortly after the turfs were laid;  I’m deeply suspicious they had a hand (paw?) in the famous desecration of the ‘Blue Peter Garden’ all those years ago (Google it if you’re under 40), but they didn’t make so much mess there - and I have an on-going war with the mice who think it’s OK to invite themselves into the house in pursuit of dried dog food; apparently mice make far inferior playmates to frogs, so the dog pretty much leaves them alone,  I, however, have declared war.  Maybe they all came here for a healthy dose of sea air  - one thing’s for sure, it certainly has made them resilient!