In quiet reverie

August 9, 2014

Sometimes you miss it, sometimes you even kid yourself that you don’t need it anymore but then you catch yourself wishing you had made that tide, wishing you had made the effort. Well tonight I made that effort and let me tell you it was great to feel the breeze and smell of the sea air after what feels like weeks of hot, humid weather.

With my rod already made up, I made my way past mackerel hunters lined up like match anglers along a canal. If they had keepnets they would all be empty. The spot I wanted was vacant, exactly 36 paces back from the dog leg. Before the winter storms this particular area had a build up of shingle covering the snags that are always eager to devour any tackle that stray too close, but for now I have to be careful, as it could be a while before I can cast into this area with confidence again.

Before turning to walk back my 36 steps I notice the familiar appearance of someone sat down looking across the sea, I wasn’t positive enough to wave hello but was sure it was someone who has really helped my fishing over the last few years. A quick 36 paces, bait up and I was fishing close-in with rod held in hand.

I was right and later we got talking, still without the confidence of silence created over time but with that wonderful enthusiasm of shared interests. In fact at one point we could have been leaning across a fence with a ciggy and a cup of tea, bemoaning our lack of success before parting and wishing that our paths will cross again with bass laden tales.

Left alone in the dark now with only a pair of anglers to far away for company, I was pleased I had made the tide and leant back listening to the gentle swell, smelling the sea air and feeling the breeze on my face.

Sometimes, in quiet revery

when day is growing dim

the heart is singing silently

A sweet unwritten hymn

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