Although it’s a human-made inland diving site, the lake teems with wildlife. Over the past few months, I’ve been eyeballed by inquisitive southern hawker dragonflies, had a swallow skim deftly past my cheek, caught a glimpse of one of the sizable bottom-dwelling sturgeon as it ghosted out of the depths and witnessed the dizzying spectacle of thousands of froglets swarming the banks and invading the changing rooms.
One of the greatest joys of swimming here regularly has been the opportunity to gain an intimate insight into the lives of the resident pair of little grebes and their brood of four. Encountered by birdwatchers, little grebes tend to be secretive and nervy birds. Their distinctive whinnying trills often give them away, but as soon as they’re approached, they flash their pale powder-puff rear ends and silently slip beneath the water, invariably surfacing on the opposite bank. But here at the lake, they are unfazed by swimmers, popping up next to us like buoyant bath toy ducks.
