Out there

A magnificent early December day. Sunny, mild and with just a light breeze, a gentle reminder that it is winter.

A few leaves still hanging on, the shades of yellow, orange and brown changing daily. Huge flocks of widgeon and teal along the estuary, with vast numbers of waders adding to the variety.

After a walk and a bit of farting about in the tackle shed ( garage ) it was time for a quick late afternoon session on The Forbidden. I fished on the opposite bank for the first time, trying to avoid the anti angling gentry and their security staff ( I made that bit up ).

As dusk gave way to what should have been darkness, a big, bright moon rose, casting shadows over the meadows, trees and hedges.

A lone chub was all I had to show for my efforts, but all evening I had phantom bites. Some were undoubtedly liners but it showed there were plenty of fish about.

At 19.00 I packed up, too cold to fish on, although the fish were still active.

I crunched along the gravel track and through the muddy puddles, my hands wet and cold from gripping the wet net, the monochrome landscape fully visible from the moonlight.

It's times like these you feel really alive. No comfortable indoor mediocrity, just out there in the elements, sensing, hearing, feeling.

It was bloody great.