Serendipity

It's a cliche I know but fishing really is about more than just catching fish.
Yesterday we were at Ryton (again) with my new found versatility and open mindedness in place, I had maggots, pellets and sweetcorn as bait and chose to fish a float, a big one as a strong wind was blowing straight up the lake.
It wasn't a red letter day by any means nor was it a day where everything went wrong or a day of annoyances like the tree that just clips your line on every cast or inexplicable un-pickable knots, I had a few bites and I caught a few fish and it was just....well, nice.
Sometimes as a fisherman the feeling comes over you that all is well with the world and you are in your rightful place by the water, it's a feeling that can take you very much by surprise and is a powerful feeling which allows you to forget whatever it is you need to temporarily forget and I like it.
At the beginning of January I gave up smoking, I was quite a heavy smoker for many years, and recent fishing trips have been ok as it goes but marred by the feeling that an important part of the relaxation process was missing, I think it's back, yesterday felt right.
For the record I caught a handful of perch in the 4-6oz class and a tench of between four and five pounds but it hardly seems important, sometimes it's not about how many fish you caught or how big they were or indeed how few you caught, it's just about being there and retreating into your own little world for a few hours.

Slow Going

One of my many faults as an angler is my inclination to decide on a plan of attack long before arriving at the water, sometimes days before. Another fault is to stubbornly stick to the plan regardless of the fact that it just ain't working.Such was the case yesterday.
When arriving at Ryton there was a slight breeze ruffling the surface of the lake, the day was warm and overcast and things seemed promising. I settled in the big swim on the roadside bank (by the picnic table) and Dad was off to my left, he started with the usual floatfished sweetcorn but my idea was to fish a beefed up straight lead set up with a heavy feeder rod, 8lb mainline and hair-rigged luncheon meat as bait. The idea being that I would ambush feeding fish at various distances right out to the island using a single smelly hookbait.
To cut a long (and not particually interesting) story short, the wind dropped soon after our arrival to leave a flat calm lake and little activity in front of us, in fact I could see where the carp were feeding around the corner of the island where the water was coloured and fizzing with the commotion, Dad managed one tench of four and a half pounds (which looked bigger) and my plan failed dismally with just a couple of line bites for my efforts.