The farm had flooded three times in five years.
Each time, her father restacked the defences, repaired the drainage, and started again. Each time, the river had more to say about it.
Nadia had been reading. She brought her notes to the kitchen table one November evening.
"Beavers," she said.
Her father looked at her over his glasses.
She showed him the research. A study from Scotland. Beavers reintroduced to a valley upstream had reduced flooding downstream by forty percent. Their dams created wetlands that absorbed water slowly. The meandering channels they created slowed the flow.
"I know it sounds strange," she said.
"It sounds like replacing the farm with a swamp," said her father.
"Part of the farm. The part that keeps flooding anyway." She pointed to the map. "This section hasn't been profitable in four years. But if it was wetland, it might protect the rest."
Her father studied the map for a long time.
"There's funding," she added. "For rewilding projects."
He was quiet for most of dinner.
After dinner, he asked to see the study again.
It took two more years and a great deal of paperwork. The beavers arrived in a crate on a Wednesday morning.
The following winter was the wettest in a decade.
The lower fields flooded — but only the lower fields. The rewilded section, where the beavers had been busy for eighteen months, held the water.
Her father stood in his wellies, looking at the dry upper fields.
"Tell me again how they do it," he said.
Nadia told him again.