London’s skyline is constantly changing, though perhaps evolving is a better word, as the basics stay much the same. For example, the River Thames – cleaner now than for centuries past – still winds through the middle, for a country-dweller like me providing a breather from the claustrophobic sprawl of the ‘Great Wen’ (pustule), as pamphleteer William Cobbett called it in the 1820s.

The South Bank is probably my favourite spot of all, and just the right place to get some air after the delights of, say, Covent Garden, a few minutes walk away. Just take an easy stroll over the handsome footway spanning the river from Charing Cross station, and once across you are presented with a feast of choices – the Royal Festival Hall, Queen Elizabeth Hall, National Theatre, Hayward Gallery, National Film Theatre… the list goes on. For the arts lover, few things come close to a pre- or post-concert drink with the constant movement of ‘Old Father Thames’ as a backdrop.

There is of course a new sight to see not so far away, and that’s the Shard, a glass-covered pyramid some 95 storeys tall, making it the tallest building in the EU – to be precise, 309.6m (1016ft) high. Opened on July 5, 2012, the public observation deck opened recently, and next time I’m in town, I’ll be up there to have a look at the spectacular view.

The Shard’s name is somewhat ironic, as the English Heritage organization heaped scorn on its designer, Renzo Piano, calling the structure, ‘a shard of glass through the heart of historic London.’ True enough, though I imagine the people at English Heritage gritted their teeth when they found out where the new building’s name came from!

I think there’s room for both old and new in a city the size of London. For me, the Shard seems a handsome structure that reminds me of the iconic Transamerica Pyramid in San Francisco, another tower that’s the tallest in town.

Daytime Shard image based on work by EE Paul.

New Year’s Day was dry and bright for most of the country, making it easy to see the effects of the drenching rain we’ve had over the last month or more.

At Lechlade, the River Thames had overflowed into fields south of the town, turning green pastures into an inland ocean. I stopped on the way back from a bracing walk around White Horse Hill to take these pictures, and very impressive the waters were too, revealing a road that was little more than a raised causeway between liquid panoramas on either side.

Wellington boots made it easy to explore the shallows, and see the water draining off the fields, back into the Thames, thence to the sea. What was perhaps a surprise was the sheer speed of that drainback, water running across a submerged parking area at a fast walking pace.

If we don’t get too much rain (and dry weather is forecast for the next week or so) then, it’s likely that here in Lechlade at least, those fields will be green again very soon.

Of course, controlled flooding by means of sluice gates in and out of water meadows is an age-old technology, and here in the Cotswolds, many areas see such floodings, repeated whenever there are heavy downfalls.

It’s said that the 2007 floods in Witney were caused primarily by sluice gates at upstream Burford being opened to prevent the lower town there being overwhelmed. True or not, I know several people in Witney whose homes went underwater for a while, with all the damage and lengthy repair consequences you may imagine.

There’s a golden rule for planners to learn from places like this – don’t build new homes on flood plains unless you have the prevention infrastructure in place. Either that, or aim to build new homes on piles so they can survive worst-case flood scenarios unscathed.

I’ve always taken great care to recall my late Mum’s warning, “Never feed the swans David – they’re bad tempered, and a flapping wing could break your arm.” I don’t really know how true the danger is, but I didn’t fancy chancing my arm on a bet with this large bird, angry or not!

Research for this piece also raised doubt on another belief of mine, that all swans belong to the Queen. I’m told that in reality, ownership applies only to, “unmarked mute swans on open water”, and even that right is only extended to parts of the Thames and its tributaries.

Right then – roast swan for dinner anyone? Maybe not!

Well, according to the craftsman-artist William Morris (above) it is – or was, when he was around in the last half of the 19th century. At that time, of course, the village of Bibury was deep in rural England, and the road through it would have been just a muddy trail.

Today, Bibury is best known for the ridiculously handsome Arlington Row, a line of weavers’ cottages that overlook the River Coln, a tributary that feeds into the River Thames at Lechlade, a small town a few miles away.

The River Colne is fast-flowing and quite shallow, so you can lean over and see wild trout swimming along. There’s also a big trout farm at one end of the village that breeds some 10 million fish every year, though whether trout in the stream are escapees, I don’t know. Wildlife in this area includes ducks, coots, moorhens and swans, so it’s a fascinating place if you’re interested in animals. When I was there, a rare black swan also put in an appearance, which added some pizazz to the visit.

My friend Lizzie turned up from her home in the Georgian town of Cheltenham for a walk along the riverbank, and we sat in the sunshine at The Swan Hotel afterwards, for a tasty (but not too hugely gross-out) tea of hot crumpets and scones, accompanied by melting butter and home-made raspberry jam.

If you’re into fine country retreats, then another hotel is worth knowing about. The 18-bedroom Bibury Court Hotel is a dignified pile that dates from Tudor times, with landscaping in the grounds that includes a small waterfall and sweeping lawns.

The story develops when Pooh, Rabbit, Roo and Piglet are throwing sticks (easier to mark than fir cones) but see Eeyore floating downstream too. Pooh throws a stone to try and ‘hoosh’ their friend to shore. All ends well, but why was Eeyore in the water at all? Better ask Tigger!

The book in my vid dates from 1958, when the work had already been reprinted 38 times. A good quality first edition is presently for sale on eBay at an asking price of nearly £600 GBP. Maybe it’s time to look in the loft!

Note that in the book, it’s ‘Poohsticks’ – one word!

Winnie the Pooh, a favourite of character of mine since childhood, was written by A.A. Milne and was set loosely in Ashdown Forest in Kent, many miles from here. But no matter, it’s all for charity, and it’s a great family occasion, with people from all over the world dropping their sticks (red, yellow, blue or white) from one of two bridges into the Thames.

Then they rush across to the other side of the bridge to see which stick passes a blue rope first! Great fun.

The artistic merits are hardly at Turner Prize levels, though some may not think that’s a bad thing.

Still, perhaps by the time this blog trucks through the Thames Valley and on to the North Sea, rusty skills will be honed!

Watch this space for pix and vids.