Quiet Waters

If I was to choose one weather vane it would be this one. I hadn't noticed it before until the other evening on my walk back home. It would sit most comfortably in the Norfolk coastal or Broadland landscape of Ransome, but here it is in Dorset by the sea. Lovely.

New Forest ponds

I did much of my early carp fishing on ponds. Small ponds. Then, as I got older, I migrated south to the barbel rivers of Southern England and in between these trips fished the ponds of the New Forest for carp which were, almost, wild in strain. All on local club books.

Some of my old favourites are now no more. Access denied or the clubs have long since lost the rights. One such place that I visited the other evening brought back memories of the 1980's. A typical New Forest club water. Tree shrouded, full of pads and the odd old boy fishing in a quiet corner soon to head home for his tea.

A handful of Spiced Straker Special less than a couple of feet out, float fishing lift method and a lump of meat on the hook - how could I fail?  

The old straight track

Something very appealing about these old Purbeck stone quarries - mostly a one man band with suitably appropriate corrugated iron huts and sheds. True wildlife havens too. The soundtrack on this particular walk was a plethora of skylarks - truly magical.

Breakfast delights

The radish obsession continues........succession planting is the name of the game to keep my lunchbox going in the FBR department. Pass the salt and butter Gramps!

Dog days

The mornings are quieter - only a few rowdy gulls protecting their young on a few of our neighbours roof tops and the odd straggler blackbird - we will have to wait until next year now for such a wonderful cacophony of noise each morning. The straggler blackbird has been with us for weeks - so constant has his presence been that one of the children whistles his song throughout the day........it's tattooed on my brain and I like that. 

I am also on my last brewing of this years elderflower champagne. One more gallon to go and another reminder of natures calendar. I love trying friends brews and have managed a few this year. Ferney's was good on the hottest day of the year, no excellent in fact and the one pictured below was a huge treat due to me forgetting that I had it.

You could class it as vintage, it was from smallholder extraordinaire Steve Cullen and was gifted to me last year - The Captain found it in the fridge and my goodness me it was amazing! Ice cold, light, crisp, not too sweet and refreshing. Mine on the other hand is a slightly more haphazard affair involving tea strainers and all round ridicule from the household - "drink at your peril, it will give you the threepenny bits" - charming!

The scent on my walk to the river however gets better each evening. I haven't done much fly fishing this season for one reason or another - just can't seem to get in the groove, but I still manage to walk the river each day and the scent from this display of dog rose and honeysuckle knocks you out from the head of the path. It gets better each day as the wild calendar plods on through the dog days of summer.  

The iron church of St Saviour

I quite often drive past this delightful building - it's the corrugated cladding that appeals to me. It was built very quickly in late 1881 / early 1882 and nestles in the gentle rolling countryside where town meets village and then the Vale of Marshwood. St Saviour in the hamlet of Dottery.

Friday Face

Do you see him?

A passion for churches

I remember watching this delightful John Betjeman film many years ago, mainly filmed in rural Norfolk - he fascinated me as a child and I used to love his programmes with director Jonathan Stedall. I still do and I too, like JB, have a passion for churches and cannot resist looking in when I find an interesting one.

That's where it ends. I am not remotely religious but have an interest in ecclesiastical things, especially the architecture.

The dip of the float

The anglers Christmas Eve

I always think as an angler I am lucky. I must add, not in what I catch, but the amount of expectation and excitement throughout the year. It's like I have a number of Christmas Days to look forward too. The trout season has started and now it is the turn of the traditional coarse fishing season. Tomorrow is the "glorious sixteenth" as Mr Crabtree says to Peter above. For some reason the 16th June, for me, is the most exciting of the lot - this is how I felt as a child on Christmas Eve and still do now. Long may it continue.

Best fishes, tight lines, creaking cane, dipping floats, wet nets and all that to you all!