I wonder if rain's the missing part of the puzzle, as far as the Fens are concerned. I wonder if the downpours forecast for the next couple of days are going to tip the balance in our favour, bringing gin-clear stretches of river alive.
One or two mates have been catching. I've been trying to work out what's so different, on the part of the system they've been fishing, to the bits I've been blanking so spectacularly on. I can't see I'm going to learn much by just jumping on there. The difference is clearly what counts, if I could only work out what the difference is.
The way things panned out last season had a common theme to it, if you knew what was coming out where as Autumn came to the bayou.
Waters covered in azolla cleared. Those who were on them when the lid came off caught pike. You could see the change work its way up the food chain, starting with the fly hatches which happened as the light hit the water.
The rudd went mad, followed by the jacks. Bigger pike moved in. We caught one or two of them. This year it's all different. Clear water, abundant bottom weed. I've probably seen more pike than I caught all of last season already, here and there - but they've defied my efforts.
In a bizarre kind of way, I'm enjoying my fishing far out of proportion to the lack of fish I've caught. This is partly because I've been exploring places my gut instinct tells me will come good sooner or later.
I'll stick my neck on the line and say it's going to change soon.
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