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ghost fish

It's not supposed to be raining and it's coming down in stair rods. I've reached that saturation point when you can't really get any wetter. It sounds weird but it's almost a cosy kind of feeling. 
The rain drops are such pretty ornamentation, bejeweling the rocks and the leaves and the rim of my cap. They change the atmosphere of this place, dampening the other sounds of the river and releasing the heady scents of soil and  vegetation.  A still closer intimacy is brought to the tiny little stream as we huddle under a drooping canopy of willow and alder in summer leaf. 
Big raindrops now, splatting down on the surface, breaking up the glassy glides so that I think we may become less visible to the trout, otherwise easily spooked in the low, clear summer flow. There is a low distant rumble. We listen intently and figure that it's just a farm wagon passing over a steel cattle grid in the lane a mile away behind us. 



So we fish on, hoping for a take. We're fishing…

Changing Spots

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind

sacred spring

The Right Stuff

Tenkara, Fair Trade and the Artisan

If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with.. (#1)

the spirit of the river

Review of 'Manipulations - the illusion of life in fly fishing' - a new instructional DVD/download from Discover Tenkara

written in stone? - geology as a determinant of fly choice

up close and personal - Eso Zoom 245/206 rod review