Bog dwelling

I can’t keep away, even though the weather has been horrible; cold clear and frosty one time and then near gale force North Easterlies the next.  Still you have to be in it to win it and there is no finer place in the UK to spend my free time.  I love being afloat in the swamp with the sound of the birds, the wind rustling the reeds and every now and then the click of a baitrunner.  The hiss of a disgruntled otter is not so welcome but no longer uncommon, nor is damage to fish.

Sleeping in a boat at this time of year isn’t for the faint hearted either, nor for the sane on reflection.  But the huge flatland skies are spectacular at either end of the day and the stars on a clear night are mind blowing, how can we possibly be the only ones in all of this?  There’s plenty of time to ponder such things in the maddening winter darkness.

Yes I’ve been doing the same thing year in, year out for over a decade now but I’m still made to feel like a beginner.  There’s a spot I often pass through that looks and feels Pikey, I’ve fished it every now and then but never had any luck.  I dropped the weights there recently and had a couple of fish in no time at all but time was against me and I couldn’t stay longer.  I stopped there again on a subsequent visit, sure I would be into fish… but caught nothing!  That sums up the fishing here, at this time of year in particular, they’re here today but tomorrow they could be miles away.  That’s one of the reasons I keep coming back, it’s never boring and if I was able to work it all out then I probably would lose interest.