Midsummer

I heard this on a podcast last week.

" When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me. It still sometimes happens and they ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. 

They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. 

The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don't ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. 

We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting.

We knew we were beneficiaries of chance. That pure chance could be so generous and so kind, that we could find each in the vastness of space and the immensity of time.

The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. 

That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don't think I'll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful. "

Ann Druyan ( Carl Segan's wife )

Take a breath eh ?

I'm sitting in what I call the luxury recliner in the shade right next to the camper.

Its half three on a steaming hot afternoon and a cup of tea and the essential digestive biscuits are by my side.

I'm on the Fens again, on the fringes of that strange area of space, peace and just a little weirdness. It's most certainly not Surrey.

The timing of the trip was unfortunate, it poured down with rain on the days prior to leaving and the land drains were pumping millions of gallons of water in to the river, resulting in tonnes of weed, detritus and suspended silt floating downstream. 

That's my excuse for not catching much.

Me and Bully endured a hot and slow day with just a few bream and one decent rudd between us. That made me realise how successful many of the trips have been in last few years.

I don't really buy the " Its enough just to be here" stuff. It's fantastic to be here but much more fantastic when you catch a few.

The previous evening I'd watched a barn owl catch a vole not twenty years from me. It then flew along my bank, getting closer and closer, until it was almost on top of me. It looked me straight in the eye and bolted off over the flood bank. I've never been that close before. Incredible. 

That same evening I watched the terns diving for fry, a buzzard lazily whirling on the thermals and an otter that surfaced a few yards from the rods. Sometimes you forget these are once in a lifetime ( or never ) experiences for some people.

Yesterday I sat outside the van until midnight, drinking a cider and feasting on cheese and biscuits, basking in the rare warmth of a beautiful July evening. 

OK, sometimes it IS enough just to be there.