Is there no end to this cycle of abysmal weather? Friday/Saturday we were battered by gale force easterlies which provided some reasonable photo opportunities, down in Broadstairs, whilst I awaited the garage folk to change the front brake pads on my van. On the Saturday morning I endured a completely uneventful session out on the flatlands for the first time this season. Then, to add insult to injury, we had some more rain on Sunday, just to ensure the R. Stour and the RMC remain a filthy dirty, unfishable, mess. Happy days!
My garden bird list is proving to be a testing exercise, at present, Redwing, Song Thrush and, most annoyingly, Ring Ouzel have escaped 100% positive id. In those far off days, of youthful exuberance, I'd have probably ticked them off without a second thought. Certainly much older, although unsure if wisdom has been part of the process, I realise that such unimportant trivia doesn't have a place in my enjoyment of the wildlife encounters which come my way. I didn't get a positive id, so just move on.
With Bev's cancer treatment now imminent, I will be over at our PAC meeting, tonight, for the final time this Pike season. Some exchange of opinion about a couple of subjects would be very much appreciated, from my perspective, as I have several nagging doubts about my bait presentation choices since embarking upon the Black Dyke project. Second opinions are always welcome, especially from this bunch of extremely talented Pike anglers. The way things are panning out, it would seem that I will be out with the Pike rods on both Wednesday and Thursday, mornings, to see an end to the 2023/24 season. If I blank, there can be no complaints about how my campaign has gone. Nineteen "doubles" and two "twenties" providing yet more evidence that my decision to retire wasn't so bad after all?
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