A Pike Breaks The Stillness
Another 5.30 am and another lake and this time the mist was
up early softening the lines of fence posts and hedgerow trees. I drove with the
sun pushing long tinted rays through it all on the road above the lake which
had disappeared under a weight of haze. I felt that overriding sense of anticipation
I sometimes enjoy before arriving at the waterside as if the moment of that
first cast is akin to the feeling of hooking a monster.
The view from the water’s edge was limited a little by the softness
and bolts of sunlight, only the crested grebes cutting ripples in the distance
gave any movement to the glass that lay before me. I was a little uneasy about throwing
a lure into a lake that looked like it was expecting a sword. Out of respect I clipped
on one of my balsa weight shifting minnows to give me some distance without beating
at the surface.
I could have stood there all morning watching the light
change and mist creep up over the fields but a flash struck at the lure and I was
into a pike. It ran a little and then took to the air tail walking its way
through the shallows until it calmed a little and I slipped the hook out while
it was still in the water.
I worked my way along the bank as the display out on the
lake gave way to the force of the day and a bright sun. The magic had gone. I
missed another couple of tugs and watched the bow wave of a powerful fish chase
down my lure and lunge only to miss it and roll at the surface. When I left the day had hardly begun………..
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