so gently breaks the surface, It’s here where I belong.
As breathing comes so effortless, my spirit is in tune,
with all the smells of water and nature’s sweet perfume.
Standing at the waters edge, is where I want to be,
Hooking fish don’t matter, not very much to me.
Until I feel that little tug pulling at my line,
then the finest sport there is, no longer is so sublime.
My breathing starts to quicken, my heart beats faster too,
precision is important now, in all things that I do.
A fisherman that’s what I am, and think I’ll always be,
Take me to the waterside, and fish a bit with me!
The last time I saw Trev, was when Geoff & I had the pleasure of sharing a punt with him on the Estate Lake at Old Bury Hill.
Trev had read one of my posts on Maggotdrowning about the place and decided that he fancied a go at it. Geoff hearing of this decided that he wanted to recapture his youth (having last fished there some 20 years previously). So thats how the three of us came to be standing by the boat house at 7am one July day in the pouring rain. Out we ventured in the punt on a search for Trev’s first Tench of the season. The omens didn’t look too good and while Geoff and I both caught, all Trev had to show for his efforts were a couple of hooked fish that smashed him.
Undaunted we kept at it and even the weather took a turn for the better, and then it happened, Trev’s float sailed away and after a brief fight there nestling in the bottom of the landing net was his prize. Not a big fish by any standards, but looking at the smile on his face I just knew that it didn’t matter. Mission Accomplished.
Trev, It’s been a privilege and a pleasure to have known you.
I’m sure you’ll be looking over our shoulders in the future and having a chuckle at some of our antics.
Rest in Peace mate.
I’m sure you’ll be looking over our shoulders in the future and having a chuckle at some of our antics.
Rest in Peace mate.
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