Farlington Mudflats by Helen Salsbury
Inspired by the Solent Seagrass Restoration Project
Down steep path and steeper harbour wall onto pebbled shore.
Trussing pattens onto narrow feet we become ‘mud treaders’,
waddle, single-file through tidal rivulets,
leave vrumm of passing cars behind.
Like the birds, we follow out the tide.
Far out in this wilderness,
seagrass communities slump on mud,
dreaming of high-tide sway;
nestling baby seeds, in summer-ripened spathes.
We spread out, place boards like wings,
kneel on all-fours to glean each spathe
twisting carefully,
so meshed roots remain settled,
ready to sprout more vital grasses,
to slow and clean water,
trap and bury carbon,
And feed the brent geese
who are all around us with their dark bellies,
and their muted vibrato honks.
Two solitary birds wing outwards as we pause.
Tide chases us back, buckets of spathes clutched in triumph.
Destined to winter in saline tanks, with human carers,
who will nurture and watch over,
till Spring-time planting of seeds and hope.
Behind us,
seagrass meadows lift with the returning tide,
come alive with flitting fish, whelks, snails.