Mayfly Madness

It's been a lovely start to the mayfly season on the Dorset Stour. Too lovely really.There have been a lot of enjoyments to mull over as I wend my way home.

This morning I heard my first cuckoo whilst supping my early morning brew - the first since we moved here. The breeze was just right, gentle and slightly from the north east in the general direction of Eggardon. And there she was, as gentle as that breeze.............this local cuckoo was one of many this year. The rest have been on the Stour and have provided the soundtrack to my rusty casting as I tried to tempt pure wild trout on the mayfly. One evening four different cuckoo were going at it. I haven't heard anything like that since an idyllic morning listening to them in Tuscany ten or more years ago.

The fishing has been superb. Clear water and chalk stream in these parts. We are blessed with an extended season in Wessex. It starts on the Stour and moves in a helpful way to the Frome and Piddle and then onto the Avon for what I guess is the traditional "Duffers Fortnight". These wild trout of the Stour fight hard and the unwary need to be on their guard. None of your light gear here. I,of course, found this out the other evening, totally smashed by what would have been a trout worthy of red ink in my diary.

When you do look up from the river the mayfly are dancing in their thousands. Dancing the mayfly dance. Later, in spent form, they too will be gorged on by the fish of the river. Not just the brown trout and grayling, but chub and dace like to get in on the act as well. It's hard not to get caught up in the mayfly madness.