Our lake is cold. And deep. And has a chequered past. I’d love to know it’s full history.
It started life as a clay pit for making bricks hundreds of years ago. Just after the war the council tipped their rubbish in it and it shrank from 4 acres to 2. Occasionally in the past, Alan would report strange bubbles and glugs coming from its depths. The fish love it though- all ten thousand or so of them. Even the legend that is a 28 1/2 pound carp that sends fishermen into night sweats and brakes rods and lines. He rules the lake like a God. He has been landed and weighed once by two men. I feel slightly uncomfortable watching Alan standing near waist deep in the cold waters knowing that the beast is in there….
Over the decades the silt has built up to create a false bottom that is scarily deep. The water alone is about 12 foot deep in places, but go through that silt layer and sink forever into Hades- or so I used to tell the kids to stop them playing in it. It’s turned into a mysterious force of nature that deserves deep respect in our household. A bit like the bottom bit of bananas that my father told me were poisonous. I still eye them warily when I eat a banana and no hell or high water will make me eat them- just in case….