My local stretch of the Guadalhorce river is now reduced to a thread and you can step right across it in places. Even where it is too wide to do this, you may be able to walk across the tops of medium size stones and get from side to side without even getting your feet wet. It is difficult to imagine, during the heat of summer, that the lower branches of bank side trees capture the debris flushed down when the river is in flood. It is now as low as I have seen it for many years.

The Río Grande, one of its few tributaries, is not flowing at all. This morning, before the heat of the day kicked in, I took my mountain bike to see how the fish were holding out in the deeper pools which have now become isolated refuges. I saw two of these and the fish that at other times would be dispersed along several kilometres of river were corralled together.

The two pools I visited today are, as far as I can see, the last remnants of that vanished river, or at least of the length of the river with which I have become acquainted. The first pool I came across was the larger of the two. There were many barbel close to the surface here and, encouragingly, many small fish also which would have been all but invisible if not for the tendency of fish to roll onto their sides for a fraction of a second and flash silver in the darker water. There were turtles too. Plenty! I was encouraged by the size of this pool but, of course it is shrinking day by day. It is deep enough to ensure, I hope, the survival of its current occupants until future rains breathe fresh life into the river and allow the fish to roam again.

The second, smaller pool is at the base of a rock at a goat farm. This is a well known pool and I have had a chance to visit it many times when the river is running though it. Today it was a shadow of its former self but, crucially, it held enough water to give the fish cover. The fish here are extremely resilient and can tough out extreme conditions. In the turbid water they could not be seen clearly but would reveal themselves by displacement at the surface or occasionally cutting through with the tip of a dorsal or caudal fin.

I had been worried that these pools might have dried to the extent that the survival of the fish was threatened but, thankfully, things have not yet reached this point. I remember vividly the struggle of the fish many years ago in a nearby section of the Guadalhorce. These fish, overwhelmingly gypsy barbel and a few carp, were holding out in the shrinking river during the late summer and into the autumn. They needed rain which would save them but the rains came too late. Hundreds of fish perished. This moving event was described in a chapter of the book I subsequently wrote. Both the chapter and the book itself were given the same title: Dry River.

I am hopeful that things will not end up this way this time. For the moment the fish have a home and will be able to hold out until their prison cells are unlocked by the rains that we are all waiting for.

But that may be yet many weeks away.

This is the larger of the two pools on the Río Grande

Further “downstream” is what remains of the goat pool

This is the Guadalhorce some way downstream of “my” stretch. I had to pedal a bit to get here! The river is shallow and there is a lot of algae. Egrets roost in the trees on the opposite side. I tried to take this picture before they took off!