“JUNE IS the fishing issue,” the features editor emailed me, “so include a few fishing items.” That has me daydreaming of blue skies, soft breezes and glorious days on the river to come. Although April can always surprise. Aeons ago, 1 April – opening day on my then-local river – dawned beautiful and warm, so it was straight down to the river. And lo. First spot. A feeding trout, but on the far side of a small bridge. Not the simplest first cast of the season. Shot one went under the bridge, but short. Not bad though. The fish kept rising. Cast two. On the button. “You’re a god,” I thought to myself as a big head came up and the line tightened. Followed by, “This is going to be a brilliant season,” as I banked a fine brownie.
However, the local Potamoi, the ancient Greek river-gods, must have been listening. “Wazzock,” they said to each other. “Where there is hubris, nemesis must follow.” Which it
