The Sherlock Stroller.

Up with  the lark today- well, the sparrows and pigeons anyway. An unexpected but welcome early walk by the river. A double blessing as I am not subjected to the infernal heat of the day but also am rewarded with extra sofa “down time.” Paused on the bridge to watch some spotty trout meander acrossContinue reading “The Sherlock Stroller.”

The Inglorious Sixteenth.

The lake water is as tepid as a cup of tea that has been left to stew. A cacophony of birdsong fills the air, a chorus of excitement and expectation. The air is heavy with the heady smell of spicy hempseed and the strawberry flavoured sweetcorn that has stained your fingers blood red. The oddContinue reading “The Inglorious Sixteenth.”

Beep!

16th June. Coarse fishing on our rivers begins again. Sharing my swim today was a kingfisher. He was no more than an arm stretch away. Together we watched the mists rise and the trees turn to gold. We fished side by side. Brothers of the Angle. He, a sleek flash of electric blue; me, anContinue reading “Beep!”

Lake Of The Dead.

It is a few minutes after five o’clock on the last day of July 1991. The air is still, humid. That stifling torpor of mid summer lethargy. Slowly, I am making my way along a narrow spit that juts out into the lake. I am already sweating and the sun hasn’t even begun to lightContinue reading “Lake Of The Dead.”