Sunday lunchtime and the easy decision is made to go perch fishing, again. Surprise, surprise and just for good measure it is raining, misty, foggy and cold. You must be mad say the family. No, I am simply obsessed.
Back through the mist and rain to the perch swim I visited last week and the visibility is terrible, fresh bait is caught, but with a struggle, and out goes the bright red float. The first cast and a bite, rapidly followed by a lost fish, are the pike are on the feed?
Wind the gear in and no hook, so on goes a wire trace and out goes the float with a fresh bait on the trace. Nothing for an hour then something happens underwater and that magic switch is flicked to the 'on' position. Four pike in four casts followed by three more in the next half hour before darkness falls. The biggest of the pike would probably have been just short of ten pounds and the majority were around the six or seven pound mark.
All in all an exciting afternoon and the pike clans are slowly gathering as the bait fish mass by the landing stages, boats and reeds, well you have to have somewhere to hide.
More rain please to colour the drains just a little bit more.
Anglers they're just like farmers about the weather, it's never quite what they want.