If you were to ask me the reasons why I feel the chalk streams are so special, then I must take you right back to the early years of my life, at the age of seven. I was brought up in the village of Colden Common, and the close that I lived in until the age of nine has a small meandering stream running through it. On the other side lived my Grandparents.

It was a familiar walk across the bridge that kept our feet dry, as we crossed over the stream most weeks to visit them. But at night, I would dream of the very same bridge allowing all kinds of mythical creatures to cross over, as if it were connecting the world as we know it to other unworldly dimensions. I remember one irksome creature would pass over the bridge without fail every night - I came to know him as ‘Wee Willie Winkie’. So every night on entering my bed, I would hurriedly shut my eyes and wish myself to sleep before he would reach my house.

Chalk streams were a constant theme growing up, and at weekends we would go on walks from Brambridge, Shawford and Twyford, walking along the Itchen Navigation with my parents. Then as I got older, during my teenage years, I would walk with friends. If we were feeling particularly adventurous, we would walk all the way to Winchester.

Later in my early adult life, I moved to Bishopstoke. Further downstream and nearer the mouth of the sea, but still the River Itchen captivated my imagination, even if it was on a subconscious level. Life had its ups and downs, but no matter what, I would always find myself along the water’s edge during times of upheaval. The River Itchen provided calm, dependable solace. Whatever the season, nature would bring me back to a state of equilibrium. As I would walk along the Navigation path, it was as if the water cleansed my troubled soul and all the dark and negative thoughts dissolved away. I imagined the water carrying them down to the sea, to be washed away into the oceans of the world.

I was in my late twenties when I upped sticks and moved away from the Itchen, but not far. l need the streams to feed and nourish me, and as destiny had it, I ended up living nearer one of the Itchen tributaries: the River Arle. Bishop's Sutton is where the headwaters for the River Arle begin, and I have been blessed to live a stone’s throw from it, so it holds a special place in my heart. So special, in fact, that in June 2023 my husband and I held our handfasting ceremony on a small footbridge over the meandering stream.

Our marriage was a village affair and the weather was spectacularly hot. Children played in the stream afterwards and adults perched on the bridge to paddle and cool down. Meanwhile, swans, herons and egrets watched from afar, swallows and swifts darted down by the water’s edge, and dragonflies skimmed across the surface. As the day turned into dusk, we gathered around the burning firepit, where we witnessed the water take on a serene glow reflecting the evening sunset. Another set of life forces took over, from bats to owls. Then perhaps later still, a fox or two drinking from the water’s edge, and otters and mice going about their nightly business. Our special day was truly magical.

The stream still enters my dreams from time to time. A particularly vivid dream was when my dog was very ill, and I had a dream that she fell into the water. She was getting carried downstream so fast and so violently, I could not catch up with her. But all along the water’s edge, there were people reaching in to break her descent - I remember finally reaching a bridge where we were able to reach in and haul her out. I woke up from the dream knowing that she was going to survive. As it turned out, unbeknownst to me at the time, all those people who lined up in my dream to save my dog in the river had done a whip-round to help pay the vet bill.

So, you see, streams really are a metaphorical symbol for lifeforce. I sometimes fancy that my veins run not with blood, but with chalk stream water, imbued by the very essence of life itself. I guess it is no surprise, then, that my recent artwork (pictured below) has been influenced by all that surrounds me. I find the water has so much to share with us, and rather than depict how we might see our beloved chalk streams and rivers, my art attempts to capture a sense of feeling, or the beginning of a story.

Perhaps we could all take a moment to imagine the tales our beloved stream could tell, with all the villages and towns its waters run through, and all the people and animals and insects it connects with until it reaches the sea. If we listen hard enough, our chalk streams will teach us about the ebb and flow of life - about death and rebirth, grief and loss, love and joy. They will remind us that water is a sacred entity and must be cherished at all costs, especially when it rises from a winterbourne chalk stream.

Cherishing our chalk streams

Our thanks to Melissa for telling this beautiful personal story - if you'd also like to share your experiences of our rare and precious chalk streams, please get in touch. You can read more stories on the Tales from the Riverbank project page, and explore chalk streams through the Watercress and Winterbournes scheme.

Pictured below (click to expand): A selection of Melissa's recent artwork inspired by chalk streams.