Our young angler, jumped out of bed. Dressed quickly, dashed down to the kitchen and grabbed a loaf of bread. "Mum I'll be home for tea, love you". Then he was gone, the cold took his breath away, "Jesus it's cold" as he stomped across the yard.
He passed his father, "No later than three son, get home by then". "Yes Dad", but he rolled his eyes as we all do. Time, well mostly when your fishing just slips away.
Arriving at the river, it looked barren that cobalt hue that just screamed Cooolllldddddd. But hey he was out, spring in his step. Looking around our intrepid young angler searched and found a over hanging willow tree. Fish must live here he thought to himself.
Out went a large lump of crust, wafting hopefully under the roots of the tree. Nothing, not a twitch nor a snatch. Time was running out, the cold was by now seeping into our heroes bones. One last cast, plop and sit back.
The tip pulled around, a solid thump up the rod. Line grating on the roots, cold fingers fumbling on the pin, the cane rod bent double. "I'm winning, yes I can see it what a Chub" it was akin to a scene from the Old Man and the Sea.
Ready for netting now, " Oh Christ I forgot the net, the net". It was then Jamie heard a voice behind him "Need a hand young man", "Yes please" Jamie stammered. Another angler came to his aid.
The aged angler swept the fish up first time. "Wow" they both said in unison. A new personal best of five pounds and six ounces. Jamie set up his camera and wanted his new found friend in the photo also.
The job done, Jamie packed away quickly explaining that he had to be home. The two anglers walked back across the meadow, chatting like life long friends as only anglers can do. Jamie reached the farm gate and bid his new friend a fond farewell and raced inside to regal his parents of his days triumph.
"Now son, not a soul has crossed our land today", remarked Jamie's father. "It's true, it's true" screamed our intrepid piscator. He raced upstairs to print the photo off as proof of his day. His parents just smiled, youthful exuberance owing to it being Christmas..
Jamie raced back down stairs holding his photo aloft, as well as the prize Chub, in the photo was his late Grandfather who he had never met. They all raced outside and looked down the lane, of course not a soul was to be seen.
"Come on, back inside" said Jamie's father. Jamie looked longingly down the lane and said "Merry Christmas Granddad"
And on the breeze came "And to you lad and to you"
Yep I put this on here, four years ago. But I've a hankering for a little Chub fishing with my MKIV Avon this weekend. So thought why not ? About time I got the cane rods out again and this rod, had never had a reel on it until I bought it a few years back. A cracking rod! I just fancy some crust fishing in the cold.