Of water and monsters

Abstract

The work on the present volume of Shima commenced amidst the first waves of the COVID-1 9 pandemic. By that time I had been based at Lancaster University (UK) for five years and was well familiar with the Lancaster Canal. Originally designed to connect Westhoughton and Kendal, in the 1 9th century it was used to transport coal and chalk. Now navigated by a few private barges, the canal became a somehow abandoned place. One could jog or cycle along its bank down to the beautiful Lune Aqueduct, often haunted by the smell of weed, without encountering that many people except for bunches of hooded youths. Everything changed during the national lockdowns. Once we were allowed our walks outside, every day the whole town seemed to be drawn to the canal. I think the reason for this was that the still waters of the canal offered us some positive change, which our stagnant lives required. One could notice that the shade of water surface would be different each day reflecting the hues of the sky. In summer, it suddenly got covered by a thick carpet of bright-green algae and over the Christmas of 2020 the canal froze and everyone in possession of a stick would poke the ice to see how hard it was. And of course, there were monsters. The canal is extremely shallow, almost knee-deep, and it is surprising that it is even inhabited by tiny fish (as testified by a few anglers). Yet walking at dusk one would still see a floating log out of the corner of their eye, and turn around to get a proper look - ‘Funny, that looks like a crocodile’. With the lift of the lockdown measures and the re-opening of pubs, shops, and cinemas, the spell was broken, and the canal bank became empty again. © 2022,Shima. All Rights Reserved.