Kerrie Ann Gardner | Blog
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The Mudlark

When this name came to me, many months ago, I fell in love. Since then, despite the fact that I am not a child from the late 18th century scrounging a living from the banks of the River Thames, it has been the only name that’s made any sense in my heart.

I may not live in Victorian London, but I do live near a river. And although I may not spend my days looking for conventional treasures, I do spend a large proportion of my time searching the riverbank for secrets.

And when I’m not by the river, I’m often searching for little pieces of magic elsewhere. Sometimes high on the hills and sometimes by the sea, which is where all rivers come to eventually.

So you see, I’m not a traditional Mudlark. I do not walk the waterways to become rich in gold or jewels. But what I find as I go; an otter’s spraint or dipper’s song, is treasure enough for me.

And that is why this blog is called The Mudlark.

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As I made my way towards Burrow Mump in Somerset, I had thought of starlings. I knew that a little further north was where they congregate during the winter; vast numbers that will, when the...

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