The well trodden path

The path is a treacherous winding fisherman's path - lightly carved into this ancient Neolithic landscape. It is high and oversees the dark expanse of water below it at one moment and it takes a turn the next so you are inches from the water where one slip would see you fall into eight feet of freezing inky blackness.  

They say it is good to experience places you love in all the seasons and therefore experience their moods both good and bad. I have done so here for a large chunk of my life, I could walk its banks blindfolded and find my way around, but it still catches me out - that is why I always return. 

How I come to be sitting by a remote carp pool of antiquity in freezing rain at the tail end of the coarse fishing season is a question I am asking myself as I stare longingly at my orange tipped float.

A whim trip - away from the outside world for a few days with all its baggage left behind is good for the contemplative anglers soul.

The rivers are bank full, so if I am to idle my time anywhere then I can think of no better place than here at the Wizard's Cauldron.

For once I am pleased my battered canvas Efgeeco brolly is with me along with a large flask of tea. I am also fortunate that "you know who" from down the lane is away elsewhere. It is challenging enough getting here anyway without that old bastard putting an enormous spanner in the works for the last few hundred yards of my journey......not this time. 

A carpet of curried maggots is on the silty leaf strewn bed and the soundtrack of rook, raven and buzzard add to the general gloom around me. I sit in years of accumulated leaf litter, sheltered in this hollow as the storm brews ever stronger and louder............I watch my float and wait.  

A Return to Nash

It was with some excitement that I joined my friends Chris and Demus for a visit to see the superb Paul Nash exhibition at Tate Britain just before it closed yesterday. It was in fact my second visit and regular visitors here will no doubt be aware of my liking for Nash. 

The exhibition just blew me away - I was quite overwhelmed the first time, but on this second visit I was able to take it all in and let it flow over me. We had a fine leisurely lunch and a couple of pints before taking it all in and what a selection of his art - will there be another showing like this in my lifetime? I am not so sure. What I found incredible were that there were so many examples of his work I had just not seen before - from private collections of course, but what a joy to see them!

I thought the section on surrealism shone through - how so much ephemera and examples of his collage have survived is something we must give thanks for and what a sight to behold. Complimentary work by Eileen Agar, Ben Nicholson and Tristram Hillier as part of the Unit One group that was led by Nash were quite wonderful. 

As you can probably tell, it left an impression. Nash does all the time with me and I really love it that I keep finding little nuggets that are new to me - who wants to know everything in one hit? Not I. Long may I continue to stumble upon more gems by this lover of seaside surrealism.       

Paul Nash by Tom Studdard (Manchester Guardian & Evening News)

Paul Nash - Swanage (collage) 1936

Paul Nash - Pimlico Sands, River Severn

Paul Nash - Forest (1936-37)

Country Fair - March

Country Fair - March 1953

Country Fair - March 1954

Record Breakers?

Hardly! The roach you see here were about as big as they got, but who cares. They are delightful and show what fine fettle the river is in as they cover all the year classes and sometimes, just sometimes you may get lucky and catch the roach of your dreams.

It was an opportunity for me to use a recent market find - the Allcock Record Breaker reel would look much more at home on the rod of the same name, but coupled with my 1950's Hardy General it looked just the ticket.

Not a free running trotting reel, it needed more than a helping hand to trot my River Stour glide, but enjoyable all the same. 

I was joined at the river by Chris and Merv and a very welcome gather it was too. By nature I am a solitary angler, but these last few weeks of the season usually involve fishing with friends which make them a much looked forward to season in my anglers calendar - Chris nabbed hooks and bait from Merv and I a float - this is pretty much how it goes these days. One of us usually forgets something and all being well the more organised among us has what we are after. Thanks Merv! 

A glorious late afternoon that chilled quickly at last knockings saw a slow, but steady trickle of roachlings, chublings and dace come to my float fished curried maggots. As has been the norm over the last few weeks the scene was sound tracked by the most wonderful bird song - song thrush and blackbird singing in perfect harmony. 

I was for once grateful of a thick jumper but annoyed at forgetting fingerless gloves and a flask. These early days of bright spring flowers can catch you out. Slight warmth by day and quickly chilling as the afternoon wends its way into evening.

There aren't many days left now before the season closes on March 14th, but each trip will be eagerly expected just as we do for the glorious opening on the 16th June - we anglers are lucky, not only to fish in such wonderful landscapes, but it brings out the little boy in us all, the feeling you get before Christmas and long may it continue.  

We trudged back to the cars as darkness quickly descended, sharing our tales of fish caught and plans for the last two weeks of the season, but as always ever grateful for what the river has given us..........and Merv of course for floats, bait and hooks!

A thought for the unknown pike angler

I was given this delightful picture a while ago by a chap I have sometimes bought treasures from - you know how it goes - "here Dickie, you would like this" - "yes, I certainly would, thanks".

I like the cut of his jib. He's nicely turned out, almost casual and a mighty fine hat to boot. The pike might actually be for his supper as it certainly looks like this specimen is not to be returned to wherever it was caught. Is that a wall, or an allotment behind? The houses seem to have plentiful gardens - an Irish scene? Who knows, but he is welcome in my study and I shall give him a nod when I return home from a pike adventure and raise my glass to him.

Friday Ditty pt 29

Pure perfection! For me, it doesn't get much better than this...........

Stour man, man of the Stour?

After fishing the Hampshire Avon off and on for well over 30 years I realised that actually my affections were swinging towards another river - the Dorset Stour. I have always had a liking for it, especially the middle and upper reaches. 

As the year turned I also realised that I no longer have any permits to fish the Avon - all of mine are for the Stour. I can't really call myself a man of the Stour as I guess that honour comes after many more years treading its banks but I do know my love is strong for this jewel of a river, so long in its near neighbours shadow.

You will have noticed from my recent posts that pike have got a hold of me lately - I really enjoy the simplicity of pike fishing, especially when it involves a lightweight spinning rod, net and shoulder bag. What with last knockings edging ever so closely to 6pm I can even sneak in quick after work trips on my way home and again start to feel like all is getting along nicely with the world again.

There has been something of a shift this last week or so. The noise generated by the birds is just superb. Not just at home, but riverside as well. My latest foray was made even more enjoyable by the birdsong - what is it at this time of year when a blackbird is in full voice? They stopped me in my tracks as I cast my Ondex spinner in search of a Stour Esox. 

My last few trips here have rewarded me with sightings and sounds of the shy water rail - on each occasion I see and hear him going about his delicate business hoping to not be spotted.  

I can walk miles travelling light, only guided by the distant church bell chimes as to how far I have actually walked. This last trip had seen me have my fill as I got back to the car as the Norman church bell rang out at six - four small fish to about 7lbs was enough to keep me going and give me my fix until my next trip. The verges around the church awash with snowdrop, crocus and daffodil.

Country Fair - February

Country Fair - February 1960

Happy Birthday Crabtree!

As is the norm on the 14th of February - we raise a glass and say many happy returns to our dear and much missed friend Bernard Venables. Here are some examples of his work from my collection which I hope you will enjoy on this special day.

The Path