I love worming in the high water of a coloured spate. The first touches of a fish at the bait are very exciting and on a river like the Conway or Teifi you have no idea whether it will be a small parr, a brownie, an eel, a flounder, a seatrout or a salmon. In the words of the great Arthur Oglesby "Fook me, I've got a fookin bite - Get the fookin net quick!"
I wrote a short poem on this yeaterday whcih I would like to share with my fellow forum members:-
All unlike to the sad black month
which rebukes everyone for loving,
and brings short days and depressing rain,
and wind that will despoil the trees,
and weakness--terrifying frailty--
a trailing cloak with rain and hail,
incitement to high tides, and colds,
grey flooding water-courses down the valleys,
rivers in spate with raucous noise,
and day-time sad and wearisome,
skies overcast, sombre and chill,
their hue hiding from us the moon.
Let there come to him--threat that's easy to predict--
evil two-fold for his boorishness
