RH Fly Fishing

I cannot remember the very first time I noticed her, but from that moment I couldn’t get her out of my head, she seemed different somehow. The vitality, the quickness, effortless grace, her very spirit, made her stand out from her companions. Time passed; I didn’t always see her, but I always looked for her. I felt somewhat guilty to be watching her graceful movements; I tried to make sure she didn’t notice me when I stared, mesmerised. In time, she grew more curvaceous, and dwelt more and more in my dreams. Came the day that I realised this longing simply had to be dealt with. It was now or never. I was drawn once more to the place I most often saw her, and there she was, dancing in the soft light. She was so alluring, yet I kept to the shadows, confidence deserting me, unsure of what to do next. My very being knew that I would only get one chance, that her beauty would always attract rivals. I watched for what seemed an eternity, then she moved closer, facing in my direction...

(... in which the names of the participants are pseudonyms in an effort to be as inclusive to others as possible, attempting to obtain the widest readership. I will be grateful for any comment the reader cares to make; alternatively complete the 'rate this' element. Thanks.) "As the angler looks back, he thinks less of individual captures than of the scenes in which he fished" - Grey of Fallodon. Today's venue was a late substitution, because the scheduled one was suffering from extremely low water levels the Professor had suggested switching to John O'Gaunt's instead. The latter suffered a serious problem with water quality more than a year ago, but rumour had it that there had been a complete recovery: we would see about that in due course. The Fluff Club previously visited in episodes 20, 23, 32 and 35. It is also a matter of fact that the place was the scene of my conversion from coarse to fly, back in the nineties. The summer's he...