It was sunny during Bryn’s lunchtime walk to the park. Despite the slight chill, snowdrops, crocuses, and daffodils proudly sunned themselves while hazel and birch joyfully flaunted healthy blankets of catkins. The blackbird’s song and deafening sparrow fight reflected this late winter/almost spring afternoon rather perfectly. Bryn sniffed at the…
A cold start followed by warmth, but several stalling hatches of Brook Duns, Large Dark Olives, Chironomids and Alderflies (likely due to the cold north-easterly gusts) failed to elicit any significant surface activity throughout the day. Luckily, we did find one consistently surface-feeding trout, creating the type of rise which…
Late Spring is always a perfect time to stop and watch, and after a stunning 35cm trout, my day is complete. It couldn't get any better anyway. So now I sit and listen to the rumble of this small Welsh stream while watching trout feed on Olive Uprights and caddis…
Summer. The days we dream of. The days that will not be rushed and neither will the trout, who rise when they're gaddamned ready. Late evenings are good but, better yet, are the early mornings; those times of utter silence, when the entire universe seems asleep. But not the trout.…
Today I fished the Big Water. In an attempt to keep Her golden treasures concealed, She hit me with brutal westerlies and cloudless skies. Bathed in warm sunshine and accompanied by the sound of rustling alder, I smiled as I watched trout dimple on chironomids in a sheltered pool. September…
I attempted to write something yesterday, however, much like the tears, I failed to catch the words which tumbled through my fingers. Like the rest of the fishing community, I reeled at the news that you had passed; you, one of the nicest, most humble and beautiful human beings I've…
She bubbles and babbles, always whispering. She can also roar, heavily stained as she moves ever downward, a slave only unto gravity. Today she whispers. Happily trickling and chattering as I listen in silence and smile.
When all this is over, we won't have experienced anything like it. They'll have been left alone and untouched; untroubled by trout fishermen, dry fly imitations, and bad drifts. Left alone to do what trout do when we aren't looking. It is going to be awesome. Silver linings.
Last night's rain had resulted in a day of dog walks and fly tying. The water table is so high at the moment you could spit and there'd be a flood. Yesterday, however, was a good day. Yesterday I was able to cast dry flies. Nothing targeted (as nothing was…
I spot her from atop a bridge, mouth white and gills flaring as she feeds on ascending Heptagenids. Every once in awhile she rises, targeting one of the hundreds of thousands of midge trapped in the surface film above her position. This is my world. Thirty-something minutes getting into position,…