I’m told I was shouting in my sleep this morning again: “Sex on wheels” and then “I hate myself”. But spring is here, and Sean took a photograph to prove it.
This was meant to be a trouty water, but despite a huge hatch of small, speckle-wing sedges, there was only one trout rising, in a position where it was simply impossible to reach him in the savage wind. The picture does not show that what I’m landing is in fact the biggest chub I’ve ever caught, somewhere between 3.5 and 4 pounds.
Still, I saw a family of deer, a blue jay, a New Forest pony suckling, and a buzzard wheeling so low I could count the individual pinions extended at its wingtips. Sean found a jack pike so lethargic he could poke it with his rod; and saw another seizing a small fish from the surface with such a splash I thought a duck had landed. I think I know what I’ll be doing on Thursday afternoon.
I sent the picture off to the Oxford Union who wanted a publicity picture for a debate I’m doing there on May 8th. Something tells me they’ll use another one instead.
Never mind the wily trout, catching a Sean is worthy of note these days. Did you have him stuffed and mounted in a glass case, among fake weeds?
R
Never mind either of those things. What did he take the picture with?
argh
A mischevious giggle, relish, a camera and a surprisingy steady hand, I’ll be bound.
R
I wasn’t even aware of the camera until the photograph turned up. But I did see Sean yesterday evening, at about 8.45, when it was too dark for all but the most determined and desperate fisherman still to cast.
We were on the north short of Grafham, after a perfect sunset — the day had been sunny and windy, so quite impossible to catch fish in; the wind died with the light, and I stood in water to my waist with the smoke from my roll-up lounging around like a cat while trout rose to everything but my fly. Actually, I think two of them did rise to my fly but it was too dark to see clearly.
So, chilled, defeated, and perfectly happy, I drove down to the carpark where Sean was and we talked for a while. Then even the most desperate and determined fisherman on the lake stopped casting — it was Sean’s friend Paul — and everyone went seperately home.
Sean told me that he had you in his sights when we spoke on the phone that afternoon…
Nice to see you over on making light; I lurk, mostly, but am there quite often.
o
Sean told me that he had you in his sights when we spoke on the phone that afternoon…
Nice to see you over on making light; I lurk, mostly, but am there quite often.
o
ps congratulations to felix