A NUMBER of years ago, I stood on the bridge in Northwich where the Dane flows into the Weaver.

The weather had been particularly bad in Derbyshire for a number of weeks and the Dane was higher than I’d ever seen it. If memory serves me correctly, it did burst its banks in a couple of places but thankfully, it only flooded a couple of fields.

By the time it reached Northwich, it was still just about able to flow under the bridge so no damage was done.

But it did provide me with the opportunity to spend 10 or 15 minutes contemplating the power of nature.

While the weather had been really bad in Derbyshire at the time, it had been quite benign across Cheshire so the Weaver wasn’t in full spate and was able to absorb everything the Dane had to throw at it.

In effect, the Weaver acted as the Dane’s run off so Northwich was spared the horror of flooding.

One wonders if the Weaver was able to cope because, at the time, it was regularly dredged.

Now I don’t know if the dredging took place to keep the water flowing or to provide a deep enough channel for river craft to navigate it, which brings to mind another abiding image of Northwich I have stored away in the recesses of my mind.

A couple of years ago, I was taking a lunchtime constitutional around the town centre and stopped to have a look at a small yacht moored in the centre of the Weaver near Barons Quay.

The yacht was still there the following day, and the day after.

It turns out it wasn’t moored at all, it was stranded. The craft was on its way down the Weaver, eventually hoping to make its way to the open sea, or so I understand.

But it had run aground in Northwich.

Now I’m no expert on river management but the story doing the rounds at the time was that a spell of dry weather coupled with cutbacks in dredging had resulted in a lack of depth of water for the yacht, ending with its somewhat embarrassing and unscheduled appearance as a Northwich tourist attraction.

Of course, this area is no stranger to the perils of floods. In fact, one only has to look back through the Guardian’s archives to see pictures of the Regal Cinema and town centre shops under feet of water.

And it was only in 2012 when the town was last under real threat from rising water on the Weaver.

Of course, all this came flooding back (no pun intended) while watching the news reports of the terrible happenings on the Somerset Levels.

The locals seem convinced that the main reason for the flooding was a lack of dredging on the area’s rivers, particularly the river Parrett. The argument goes that if it had been dredged consistently, it would have been better able to cope with all the extra water brought about by the succession of storms sweeping in from the Atlantic.

Needless to say, for every voice calling for dredging, there is a host of experts lining up to say that the issue is much more complicated and dredging is, perhaps, only one small part of the solution.

On a human level, I have every sympathy with those people forced out of their homes for weeks on end by rising waters. I can’t imagine what it must be like to see your prized possessions floating in waist-deep, foul water.

But there is also a part of me that sort of thinks: What did they expect?

Those homes were built on a flood plain. And surely there’s a clue in the name. Isn’t one of the defining characteristics of a flood plain that sometimes it floods?

Wherever you elect to live, you are presented with advantages and disadvantages.

If you live on top of the Lancashire Moors, you are unlikely to be flooded. But then again, don’t be surprised if you get snowed in for a couple of weeks every year or so.

Go and live in a big city and you get all the advantages of nearby shopping and social activities, but don’t be surprised if you are constantly caught in bad traffic or your car radio gets stolen.

So yes, by all means, spend some money on dredging the rivers but don’t be surprised if your flood plain floods again.