Despite sometimes failing to live up to the expectations that have grown through the long winter months, the first day of a new trout season is never short on eager anticipation. After a 2020 season curtailed by lockdowns and as we head towards what is hopefully the end of the pandemic, this year, more than ever, the new season was met with as much keenness as I can ever remember! So much so that work was put on hold and opening day was booked as annual leave.
Arriving at the pastures for about nine-thirty, it was a leisurely start met by the resident Hares and red kites who felt like old friends. The sun shone and a small smattering of Large Dark Olives even brought a few fish to the surface. In past seasons, my opening day MO has always been fish, fish, fish cramming as much as I can into my first full day, but this year I surprised myself. Maybe I’m getting old, but it dawned on me more than ever that it wasn’t just the fishing I’d missed. I sat and watched the smaller birds that sometimes I overlook like the busy little reed buntings in the sparse bank side willows. I inspected the gravels which have once again shifted to slightly new locations. I snapped a few photos of willows bursting into life and I chatted with other members that were equally lucky to be out. Maybe most surprising of all was that I went home a couple of hours earlier than I’d imagined I would. Not through disappointment, dissatisfaction or a frustration at the tangles that being a bit rusty can bring. Not any of that. I went home early because of pure contentment. Opening day is good for the soul!
