The last few days have been very hot, so with that in mind I decided to head out and fish a late afternoon overnighter, back on that lovely stretch of the Thames, a place that has taken a firm grip of my fishing head.
After the last trip at the weir pool, I was contemplating to giving it another go, but I had yet to try any of the lovely spots that are much further downstream. After another look to reacquaint myself with the various swims, I decided to fish a small bay area, where the depth sloped from being shallow to eventually dropping away to form the near margin ledge, a lovely spot, replete with a lovely dense bush to my right, which covered a lovely area off the main flow.
So that was the plan, one rod out near marginal ledge and the other out to the far bank margin. I don't tend to use pellets as much, but I decided to put the closest rod out on one and heavily glugged it in Anchovy plus oil. The other on a black snail boilie wrapped in a little paste. The afternoon passed by in the company of a friendly heron, whom had taken to making frequent visits at a nearby muddy pool in the field behind me.
What was left of the sun eventually slipped behind the nearby trees, leaving a red sky with wispy cloud dotted about. As I made ready one of the rods, the last of the evenings boats chugged by, a polite wave shared by angler and boat owner alike, mine one of relief, he was at least being thoughtful as he plodded by. It was a lovely night, a heavy dew eventually formed, followed by a misty veil that seemed to roam the fields, its shape morphing and twisting, from one field to the next.
Sounds of owls and the shriek of vixen were heard as they called into the night and the odd rabbit sprinted about behind me, my pellet rod and one I favoured for some interest began to tap slightly, before the indicator lifted slowly to the top, a light strike was met with a steady plodding resistance and a fighting fit bream of 6lb 4oz was slid into the waiting net.
I did ponder if I should take a picture or not, it was in lovely condition, I decided on the former and a quick shot was taken, back it was slipped, rod re-cast and a cup of rather stewed tea was poured from my flask. One more slow bite occurred and I connected very briefly with what felt like another bream, before it slipped the hook.
Morning broke, mist lacing the water, the thames looked wonderful, but unfortunately it was time to pack up and make for home, my head well and truly filled with more food for thought.