Half an hour before sunrise; -4c and bone dry. On the Cotswolds side of the valley the dawn was a perfect, cloudless Homeric rosy-pink, rising to a powder blue canopy before descending into a bruised pink/purple/grey smudge over the Forest of Dean. Here and there it was torn by cotton-wool contrails spear-headed by impossibly bright diamond points of light, reflected back from the planes leaving this perfect scene behind.
Monthly Archives: March 2007
Every year I promise that I will keep a fishing log but this season I really, really intend to. Honest!.
Being a geek I have decided to do this digitally – here’s the plan:
I took Bosun out for a much needed run yesterday – he’s been sadly neglected over the last few days. I pulled up in my usual parking spot & knew immediately that I’d made a mistake. I tried to reverse out but my instinct proved to be correct; I was well and truely stuck and there was no point digging myself in deeper by trying to drive out. I had to walk home & get the other car to tow the estate out.
The opening day in Wales has come and gone with no chance of wetting a line. Too much rain and more to come have put the mockers on all our hopes of targeting early season trout. One or two hardy souls ventured out, more in hope than expectation but I wonder if their frustration was any less than mine as I let the day pass in centrally heated comfort.
I suspect the start of the Engish season will be the same and we all know that our dreams of perfect, sun-lit, sparkling rivers are a long way off. Of course, we’ll fish in rain, drought, high water, low water, coloured and clear, grateful at times for the excuses that nature has handed to us or cursing her for her mean spirit.
There will be perfect days, but far fewer than we expect or desire but their rarity will double their value.
In the meantime, I’ll get those ‘canya just’ jobs done so that when the time is right there’ll be nothing to keep me from the river.