RAINBOWS AND SILVER LININGS

A glance at the weather forecast for this week highlighted Thursday promising a rare break from the rain as a  brisk north/north easterly wind kept the rain over the west side of the country for long enough for the brave to venture out.

Gusts of 50mph did not favour the graceful art of chucking fluff, but undeterred I arrived this morning at my brothers to pick him up with eager expectancy and a positive mental attitude.
The time on the journey there spent growing expectations with excited voices. Creating hope and building dreams akin to childhood journeys on worn out bicycles. A memory from long gone days that paints a smile from so many remembered pictures.

Setting up rods  at the car, I chose a floating weight forward line while my brother opted for an intermediate/ sinking line. We favored the wind on our backs and strode side by side to the waters edge where we would part. Not from sibling rivalry but out of preference. With words blown away before reaching anyway, just being in sight of each other bought companionship without a need for close quarter confinement.

I selected a weighted nymph and gently teased out a cast which lifted in the breeze and seemed to take an eternity in landing on a rippled surface. It wasn't easy to take sight of the tapered leader even with polaroids on and was retrieved before reaching a decent depth despite being in shallow water. My second cast wafted parallel to the margin about three feet out, where a shelf sloped. With slow figure of eight retrieve I teased the nymph back. As it came within eyesight a flash of silver caused me to pause, long enough to curse a missed snatch at the nymph but as more often than not gave chance of second take. This time I lifted in to a small lively rainbow who was hell bent on escape, often making for what was left of some weather beaten and sorry looking rushes. As it skated over the net, I glanced up to see if the splashing had alerted Kevin of my success. I need not have worried, the knowing shake of his head and the more determined effort in his cast proof enough. We exchanged smiles.
 A quick snap and a sort out had me feeding line again and using the wind to my advantage, opting for a similar approach as before. On stripping the last foot of line before the lift a sudden tightening saw me lift into another. A heavier fish this time taking back all of my stripped line and then some, giving me a longer fight.

Its a far more nerving playing a fish on feel alone without assistance of clutches and I think more enjoyable to some extent. Its something that is hard to teach by anything less than trial and error, a feel that is governed and dictated by the quarry. No bullying here, just take line when its given  and hang on!

 The adrenaline rush is second to none.

Two fish in three casts lifted my gaze to my sibling whose mouth silently mouthed a profanity before forming another grin.

I stopped fishing and decided to have a walk,to familiarize myself with the autumnal changes. Took the time to catalogue mental pictures to serve as postcards til I venture out again. Before the rain lashes back my adventures until the frosts come once more.