Birds, trash, and duckweeds were the three things that caught my attention while I was walking along Regent’s Canal.

As I walked back to college, I passed by a canal. I had always crossed that bridge, but I didn’t know exactly what it was for. Then I noticed several people crossing that bridge. At first, I thought it was just an alley, so I didn’t want to risk it. However, I saw people standing still and admiring what was in the canal under the bridge. So, I decided to go down the stairs that led to the canal.

When I got there, I came across a sidewalk with some benches where people were sitting, sometimes talking on the phone or waiting. When I got closer to the water, I noticed a large green layer covering the surface. Beyond that cover, I could hear and see several ducks swimming. As they swam through that green layer, they left a path behind them, sometimes in zig-zags. While opening their way through that green labyrinth, they also passed by trash: floating bottles, garbage, pieces of wood, and leaves from the tree above the canal.

I decided to get closer and observe. When I did, several ducks came towards me and started quacking. I realized they wanted my attention — perhaps that canal had a history of people feeding those animals. I wonder if this increased the trust animals have in humans. It was striking to notice such a different relationship from the one I had seen in Wellesley, where ducks would either run away from me or attack me. The same with swans: although we lived peacefully together, I never imagined I could witness such an exchange with wild animals in such an urban place.

I started recording videos, taking photos, and reflecting. I wondered how this place could be so polluted and yet so full of life. Was it possible that these animals were sick? Was it safe even for humans to enter that water? What exactly was that green moss-like layer covering the canal? Was it good for aquatic life? Was there even aquatic life under it? It was impossible to see through the water because of that green cover.

One day passed, and on Sunday, September 21st, I went back to the canal. The temperature and the day felt very similar, but on Friday it had been extremely hot, on Saturday cooler, and on Sunday colder. This time, I noticed the absence of that green layer. Now, only ducks were visible, and the darker color of the water could be seen. That raised more questions, so I decided to do some research.

I discovered many interesting things about that habitat, but one object I decided to focus on to respond to this prompt was duckweed. I found out that this green layer was actually a type of plant called duckweed and it has an ability to absorb pollutants containing nitrogen and phosphorus, converting them into plant biomass. This process helps to prevent eutrophication, restore aquatic ecosystems, and increase dissolved oxygen. It also has a high tolerance to ammonia, heavy metals, and organic compounds, which allows it to be applied directly in agricultural, municipal, and industrial wastewater. That is basically a description of London’s aquatic environment.

I also learned that duckweed proliferates much more during hot days. I remembered that on Friday, the first day I saw it, it was very hot for an autumn day in London. Unlike in Boston, here I can actually feel the heat on my skin. What amazes me is that I can still feel this sun warmth even with a cold 16°C wind against my skin. This made me wonder how it responds in the long term to London’s constantly changing weather. I am also very curious to see how it will change at the end of November and December, because observing how much this environment is changing makes me wonder how nature will adapt.

London, historically marked by aquatic activities for transporting food, metals, and maritime work, has had many rivers and canals become unsuitable not only for human leisure but also for aquatic life. Some were even said to be absent from any form of life. However, that was not what I saw there. I saw that duckweed was exuding life — not only through its bright green color but also through the diversity of animals present. That caught my attention because it brought me back to a reflection I had at home: how nature manages to self-heal and even solve problems caused by humans.

It reminded me of the pandemic, when we had to stay in quarantine, and suddenly it was possible to see mountains that were previously covered by pollution, or notice changes in air quality caused simply by a pause in human activity. If we not only stop polluting but also encourage nature’s role in restoring ecosystems, it might be possible to fight many problems left behind by past generations and perpetuated by our own.

I didn’t know duckweed before, but I found out it can even be grown at home. That made me wonder how it could help solve problems in places in my country that suffer from water pollution and the spread of mosquitoes that transmit diseases. So I have many questions, but at this moment, I only feel more curious to learn about London’s history and how this unique ecosystem is transforming the way all forms of life interact in it.