It has been a wild couple of days. The wind has been howling round the house and through the orchards and the rain, slashing at the windows, has sounded more like gravel hitting the glass.
Despite this, a pre-Christmas Pike fishing trip seemed like a great idea at the time, even though the weather was simply horrendous. The wind seemed to build in ferocity as soon as I tackled up, and the plan? Well that was to catch some bait fish while fishing a dead bait but in that wind there was no way that I would be catching fresh bait.
I managed to catch one Pike of seven pounds and a few ounces with a huge, raw bite scar on its side. All the time the wind was building and the surface of the drain was turning into a maelstrom, alternately being pressed flat with the pressure of the wind and then seconds later churning with breakers and foam.
As darkness fell it seemed right to head home for a beer in front of the fire rather than fishing deep into the dusk and to muse on just what slashes a great bite on both sides of a seven pound Pike, in a deep drain, on the lonely wind lashed fen.
Perhaps it's the right time for an M.R.James ghost story with the wind howling, the rain rattling on the windows and the doors locked.
Are you sitting comfortably?
