Late January, still remarkably dry, and pretty cold. At last, the axis of our planet is tilting back towards summer, no longer is it pitch black at 8 in the morning, and the sun is now setting at 5 in the evening. Despite the cold (ice and frost most mornings) and the slow pace of change, Nature is beginning to acknowledge the encroaching new season. Mallard are all paired up, and woodpeckers are drumming in the Lyd valley, informing any other bird about who is nesting where, and with whom.
The midday sun now has a little more presence, enough to make yours truly strip down to shirt sleeves while wielding a post banger on Bottom Beat yesterday. The broken fence, maintaining shade and cover on Hairy Mary pool, is now back up after being demolished by a tree last season. Alexander Jones is still locked in mortal combat with some huge trout in New Zealand, he will need to re-adjust to our little brownies again soon.
So far the settled dry weather has kept the rivers nice and steady, great news for the salmon and sea trout eggs buried in the gravels, and the low temperatures are actually just what they need for correct incubation. It has been quite chilly when immersed to the groin in the Tamar trying to catch grayling, but a lot of fun, enlivened by a few out of season brownies and an odd peal kelt, along with a grayling or two. Bruno Vincent showed us all how to do it, with seven grayling to 12 inches from the Lyd last weekend. Memo to self; 'Must try harder'.
Tight Lines, David Pilkington
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