(A perfect) morning has broken

 

Fishing is always good, even the "bad sessions", but yesterday morning was perfect. Not because I fished perfectly (I didn't, my human imperfection and fallibility being just as evident in my angling as in the rest of my life!), but because there was nothing about it that I retrospectively would have wished to be different. 

An early start saw me arrive at the lake shortly after 6am and by 6:30 I had a bait in the water. I opted for a swim that gave me a number of options and elected to employ the Method feeder and hair rigged pellet approach that had worked for me on my previous visit. My first cast had been in the water for about half an hour when the bite alarm alerted me to the fact that an inquisitive tench had made an error of judgement, and a brief but lively tussle ensued before the fish saw my side of the argument and submitted to the folds of the net. The scales showed a pleasing weight of 5lb 5oz and after admiring her and taking a couple of quick photographs she was returned to her watery home.

Two other club members, Pete and Eric, arrived as I was playing the fish, and set up a couple of swims to my left. One of the beauties of the pool is the way that even when other anglers are on the lake, the plentiful bankside trees and foliage ensure that you have your own private slice of paradise and it still feels as if you have the lake to yourself. That's not to say that I'm a curmodgenly or unsociable angler (both Pete and Eric visited my swim for a chat, and I theirs) but there is something magical in our fast-paced, overstimulated modern world, of feeling alone in nature, with just the antics of the waterfowl and sound of birdsong for company.

I didn't have to wait too long after recasting for my reverie to be disturbed, the welcome intrusion to my daydreaming turning out to be a tench of 3lb 14oz. Following the group's rules, both sides of the fish were photographed and put on the group WhatsApp along with a record of its weight.

More than happy with the brace, I recast and decided to permit myself another hour of fishing before surrendering to the responsibilities of "real life" (why do we only describe the more onerous or tedious aspects of life as "real"?), rebaited, recast and almost exactly an hour later found myself attached to my third and final fish of the morning. At 3lb 10oz, it proved to be the smallest fish of the day and was, like the other two, in fine, healthy condition.

I packed up at a leisurely place, bade farewell to the others and set off on my pleasant 20 minute homeward drive through the countryside. On arriving home I checked the group WhatsApp to discover that shortly after my departure Eric had landed a glorious crucian of exactly 2lb in weight. It really had been a perfect morning.