My social media self is being pestered by bored “friends” demanding that I accept their challenges to post pictures of past fishing exploits. The idea is to post one picture a day for the next 10 days and keep the ‘chain’ in tact by nominating some other ‘saddo’ each day to do the same. This will apparently show solidarity in these difficult times and help promote the greatness of fishing.

By the way, these are the same people who recently lobbied the government to get Fly fishing recategorised as a form of physical exercise so they can still go out during the lockdown.

They were unsuccessful!

 

Whilst there is no doubt that regular trips to the river are much better for you than lounging with a Single Malt in your leather Chesterfield, it was always going to be a tough sell.

I’ve been in quarantine for a couple of weeks since my ski trip to France was cut short and we were ‘repatriated’ in a tense, military style extraction.

With last years floods and this years plague, It seems like an age since I was able to go fishing. However, the longer I stay cooped up in the house, the clearer my understanding becomes about what it is I am actually missing.

Well, it’s not the rods and reels, the gear and gadgets or even those new killer fly patterns that I saw at this years BFFI.

It’s the river.

 

Right now, I’d be happy to just be on the bank. The sound, the smell, the vivid colours, the pace of it, the peace of it.

This whole experience is a wake up call for mankind. We’re being forced to concentrate on what’s REALLY important, health, family, community and the environment. The things we take for granted on a daily basis because we’re so busy trying to impress each other!

Ok, Lord, I get it! If you could arrange for the locusts to come whilst we’re all still locked up, that would be much appreciated.