I initially assumed that the depths near the centre of the pond were entirely sealed off from my air-breathing world above, with its relentless sunshine and skylark song. But no. I gradually realised that the life within was sensitive to the outside, and to me. The more inanimate I became, the more the underwater place revealed itself. Initially, it was just whirligig beetles, backswimmers and pond skaters sailing across the pond’s meniscus past my feet.
Then common newts began to show and I realised the weed was full of them. As I drilled down with binoculars into this other realm, almost plunging mentally under and adjusting scale to the micro-movements of newts, I began to re-see the pondweed’s 3D structure; the complex geometrical patterns in its right-angled limbs. Slowly, it started to resemble the molten and twisted girders in some long-drowned city.
