By now, you’ll have been dropping hints for your Christmas.
I kind of miss just circling catalogues and leaving it for my folks to see.
The subtle art of sliding fishing gear into conversation with the missus has never been too successful.
Or maybe I’ve just been too ambitious hoping for Santa to deliver me a Flats Boat.
Christmas doesn’t come from a store though, hopefully we all get some
family time in whatever kind of bubble to go along with the novelty socks.
I’ve managed to get out for some Rainbows a few times recently.
Lochs such as the New Haylie have free rising fish even when there’s ice in the margins which does wonders for the confidence even if you’re not catching.
They’ve been doing the usual winter round of feeding in bursts, full on Christmas dinner, then coming back for sporadic nibbles for the next couple of hours.
So it’s been a case of right time, right choice and getting the flies in front of them – with patchy results.
I’m always aiming to be a positive angler though – it’s not a blank, just a haven’t caught one yet kind of thing.
We all fool ourselves into thinking the next trip, the next swim, the next cast is going to be the one.
So with all the lockdown flies tied and local knowledge we’ve built up, next year’s definitely going to be the one.
This year has seen so much put off and put back I’m looking forward to getting permission slips signed and some solid plans in place.
The river’s work parties have been cancelled, loads of formal competitions were called off, and no club barbecue.
For a bit of a mixer, I’d have been in line to attend all the AGMs.
I’ve already sorted my New Year’s Day trip for some rock fishing this year, a good excuse to blow the cobwebs away, try to get on the board early doors and at least have a cook out to kick things off.
We’re all on borrowed time, though. I still want to climb hills, explore the wilderness and tackle new challenges.
Although, those challenges might be a bit less athletic than they once were, and I’m more of a fan of a wee seat on a lochside bench than I ever was.
We’ll still keep dreaming about the next fish, exploring round the next bend, having one last cast when we should definitely be heading home and doing our damnedest to enjoy life with no regrets.
There’s no space under the tree for a boat but maybe it’s time to get the bucket list out and check that you’re not putting off something for a day that won’t come.
