Catkins fall from the sweet chestnut trees like long yellow streamers from a party. More than 20 wasps fret over the bonnet of my car, feeding off something – maybe sticky tree sap or dead insects.

The hay crop is in. No high yields, but better than last year. Two red kites hunt over the coumarin-sweet cut meadows and the swallows glide low. The empty fields usually beckon a gallop, but the ground rings out under hoof like a metalled road. If there is no rain, a second crop seems unlikely.

A hosepipe ban has just been announced, with East Anglia the driest region in the country. Imagining a deluge seems almost impossible, yet my village, a few miles away, has been planning for just that.

In December 2020, the rain didn’t stop. Drains couldn’t cope with the rush of water off the fields. The street became a fast, shallow, brown river and sandbags weren’t enough to stop homes from flooding. The road is often submerged, enough to stop smaller cars. The flood signs go up, and volunteers venture out to keep the drains clear. That Christmas was the worst.

Sweet chestnut flowers fall. Photograph: Kate Blincoe

But something has changed. When I walk down the aptly named Wash Lane, where a deep crevice holds the now completely dry watercourse, there are four large constructions. Made from wood, they are “leaky dams” or logjams, designed to collect debris and naturally slow the flow of water.

This has cost Norfolk county council more than £35,000. The work is inspired by the original and best ecosystem engineers: beavers. They fell trees for constructing their dams and lodges, and in doing so reduce water flow and create pools for dragonflies and amphibians to breed.

We are beaver-less round here. There are a handful of released beavers in Norfolk, some of which have bred successfully, but not close by.

Yet while these timber barriers have been built to slow water naturally, the surrounding fields are proposed for a large-scale solar development, which could alter rainwater runoff. Climate change brings us extremes of weather, but surely the solutions must be beaver-clever, working for the health of the whole landscape and leaving more room for nature, not less.