Pleasure of the Gloom

The deep-bend's resident pipistrelle fluttered blinking into the light at its usual time on Sunday night but didn't hang around (sorry!), heading towards the village and no doubt the insects around and over its streetlights. The tawny's were particularly vocal; the male too-it, too-ooing and female shrieking across the little valley that seems to have become my own over the past two winters. Not so much my own at present though as late developing river anglers busily create pegs like badgers digging setts and reaping new bedding. No doubt the frosty weather to come will thin them out though and the armchair swims they have created will be welcome then for the winter, if only as clean areas where fish might shelter in floods!

Kingfisher, jackdaw and raven, lesser black-backed gull and canada goose plus the ever-present woodpigeon flew over or by as the wait for a greater level of darkness was warmed by the flask and punctuated by the occasional comical broken-voiced bleating of sheep as they sought comfort for the night

The stream hadn't fished well today but there were odd fish to be had. At dawn an early chub just under two pounds brightened proceedings but the supporting act peaked at just a four ounce roach and a dace of similar maturity

Four swims were tried, with two of those newly and carefully made without full exposure to the quarry, in strategic spots, but running a float through was rendered all but impossible in most due to the lack of flow associated with such a long dry period

The decision was (eventually) made to return in the evening when four swims were primed with some bread feed, two of the swims were further new ones and neither mustered so much as a single fish, just a few taps of the tip, whereas those that were fished in the morning produced a few little roach and then, well beyond sunset I glanced away from the tip when mashing some more bread only to revert to the betalite illuminated tip to catch it in a fearful curve and disappearing under the water among the rushes!

There was clearly no need to strike, it was simply a case of clinging-on and thankfully the fish, while a bit of a bruiser, did not retaliate particularly wildly and was soon in the waiting net. At 3-5-2 however it usurped last weeks brace and moved into 2nd place in this river's list behind a fish of 3lbs 13ozs getting on for two years ago (he must be a four pounder by now!) but soon after a rig lost on a snag was enough to draw the evening to an abrupt conclusion and off we trotted with the owls still ringing in my ears