I grew up in Biddolph not far from Knypersley Pool.
Many afternoons were spent here as a young child watching my dad fish, and later on just with my mum and sister meandering along the paths, sometimes with visiting friends and family. As kids we’d climb up to the Warden’s Tower and look through the gate at the stairs, scaring ourselves with stories of what or who might be up there, before running back down to our grown-ups.
No trip there was ever identical. So many different pathways, streams, waterfalls and bridges. The water on the pool always looking so different each time and yet so familiar, and in my mind there is always so much mud.
I remember coming here with friends as a 12, 13 year old, throwing pebbles into the water and later returning as an adult when visiting my mum. Eventually, I’d return and visit as a wife and then as a mother myself.
Significant life moments happened here, all of which I hold in my heart. Once I was diagnosed with M.E. aged 14, I could no longer visit for several years and again in later relapses where I was confined to bed or a wheelchair, severely void of even a small drop of energy and plagued by all manner of symptoms.
Many great places of beauty are inaccessible to those of us who need help and unfortunately Knypersley Pool is one of them. Now in my eighth year of another severe relapse of M.E. which has left me once again homebound, often bed bound, I think of you Knypersley Pool. I close my eyes, I can breathe in all that fresh air. I can see vividly all the seasons gloriously on display. Autumn in vivid hues, spring wildflowers, breezy summer walks, snowy picturesque scenes, frozen water, breath in full view.
I can hear squelching underfoot, stones thrown into the pool, grown-ups chatting. I can sense the stopping and starting of walking, looking, walking, looking again. Visited by wildlife along the way.
And finally, I can feel the ground change like I’m still there – from coming out of the mud and back onto the road. Knypersley pool, you hold so many of my memories. Happy, safe, breathing in moments. And you hold so much of my heart.
You are one of the places I yearn to be reunited with if my body was set free. I’d be there, eyes grateful, holding my children, my family. Experiencing the normal but glorious life together.
