Monday, 27 June 2011

Streamer Weed And Balsam Seed

The low light of an evening fishing trip,dull colours with faint rays of sun reflecting on the river,streamer weed slowly swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the flow,I smiled as the rain began to hasten,hitting the umbrella harder,hissing and spitting like an angry wet snake.

The river needed the refreshment for thirst that only droplets of water could provide,the water slowly changing colour from green to a slight tinge of brown,lily pad heads were now slightly submerged,a dragonfly perched itself and teetered on the only dry petal.It was not until the evening had long since been relinquished of its daily duties and the Barn owls began their late night rounds that I had my first fish,a small Chub of around 1Lb,young,vibrant,full of life and slipped back I had shadowy images swimming around in my mind of Barbus Barbus,they are never far from my thoughts,they swim freely inside my head,regularly playing tricks on me,always so alluring,yet they deceive me,taking refuge in the tangled roots that are my mind,along with foggy dreams of past halcyon days spent fishing,pondering the meaning of what it is to be human,what is the excepted example that this world and its populace deem as being worthy to grace it,should I be a person that fits into a round hole or a square? What if I do not fit into any of these pre-determined shapes and patterns that society and ignorance accepts,will I be thought less of a human for not being what is the conceived "norm"?

These thoughts invade the space of the Barbel,pushing them back into the opaque density and shadows that are my life experiences carved by the hand of other people and their preconceived notions,the sound of the rain and the reply of the rod tip as it gives a resounding bite are the only thing that bring me back to the here and now,the occupant the other end of the line tussling for freedom,its spirited fight and exuberant power eventually ending at the welcoming,open arms of the landing net. The Barbel had become reality,perhaps I had pushed this gem out of my minds eye and into reality due to the other thoughts that I had let invade its peaceful feeding ground in my memory.

It was very early morning when another Barbus Barbus got the better of me due to a hook pull and had me in its landing net,the least I hoped was that I was a personal best human catch for this fish and that my fight was as spirited as the scaley torpedo earlier in the night had been.My mind at rest again,reset by natures balancing act,it was early morning when I headed home refreshed,happy to be a bit different and not one bit ashamed to call myself an Aspie.


  1. The rain falling on the water, Its a sight we all get used to but it make for a great picture, And what a top Barbel Well in Mark its a belter,

  2. Thanks Paddy,

    very true mate,there is something very wonderous about sitting under an umbrella hearing and listening to the rain hit it while fishing,almost hypnotising.