Fishing into the night on the river Lea at Leasey Bridge Lane

by ANDREW RICHARDSON
10th January 2016

Once the moon is riding high, and dominating a silent sky.

And when the pearly clouds drift left to right, eclipsing the starts from your sight.

And If you can remain cautious and out of sight, you will encounter the creatures of the night:

The hunters, hunted, hungry, hoarders, prowlers, growlers, gatherers, seekers, sneakers, stalkers, searchers, slackers trackers, compact, tracked, scurriers, scared,  confused and  pursued.

The slight and the small, the strong and the tall,

will soon all share the bracing night air.

 

Initially there’s no sound, just darkness all around

But once the night breeze has touched the trees,

And everything can share the damp night air

Just like a switch, little whiskers begin to twitch

 

The rats, mice, and voles  vacate their bankside holes.

Each is desperate to find what the rabbits have left behind

A chance to feed on that low hanging seed

Or hoard a berry or locate an elusive ripe cherry.

 

The fresh smelling flora creates a wonderful aura

and you can smell the trees on the damp nightly breeze.

And if you slowly exhale you can create your own veil.

 

But in the cool night air there is danger everywhere

Shrews leave very few clues but even the smallest of feet create a beat.

The voles are nervous soles and never roam far from their holes.

Mice cannot think twice, to remain intact they have to react.

The hunted value the cover    like no other.

 

But despite their plight they can survive the night.

The small and slight must remain out of sight.

And with ears pricked high covering the night sky

 

 

Seemingly without a care the Fox enters the night air

With blood red eyes on the go

and a nose slung low,

they patrol every hole, targeting that carefree soul

Or hoping to pick up the trail of a passionate male   

The hunted all know the fox is hell bent ……on finding their particular scent

 

Next into the night enters a hunter with no sight

He’s as stealthy as a drone and hunts by echo alone.

Without a care the moths dance in the tranquil night air,

they waltz deep into the night, totally innocent of their plight,

unaware a fateful bite could come out of the night.

 

Far.. far…  into the night

The farmer’s dog barks out of sight.

Many many fields away

The horses roll in their hay

They need not be treated as warnings there simply  callings.

  

Danger is a subtle, small, slight, slender, sly noise,  

Like an owl taking flight into the night

Or the slink of a mink

Or the high pitched note of a squealing stoat

Whatever the noise, the pursued must never take flight and bolt into the night

Without a making a sound they must get underground.

 

On a moonlight night the Roach will sit tight,

Whilst staying out of sight, they await for daylight,

the Pike have to concede their chance to feed.

But from below the Barbel will show

Leaving the reeds and the sunken trees

They will drift with the flow and search for the roe.

 

 

 

 

What about those anglers who fish into the dark,

Scanning the night with a low voltage light.

How does he react to what’s going on all around,

Is it possible to investigate every little sound?

 

Some anglers may feel intimidated by a scurrying rat,

Or unsettled by a darting, low flying bat.

Should he scat like a rat or sit tight like a vole deep in its hole.

Or maybe he should think like a mink,

and stand his ground,  intimidating those all around.

 

But at least at Leasey Bridge you’re never far from a car

A welcoming sight is a headlight cutting the night

Like a brief light show the cars come go.

 

The rules strictly state, DON’T BE LATE WHEN EXITING THE GATE.

At midnight the anglers start to depart.

And If your walking back along the track,

don’t take fright,   even if the river is one step to the right,    

As though riding on a rail,  careful tread the narrow trail.

 

There’s no need for directions just follow the sluice and the fast flowing sections.

Next its over the footbridge, and past peg 8, then walk straight and head for the gate.

Under the stars they load up their cars,

Then unlock the chain and drive down the Lane.

 

Unlike those that roam, you will soon be home,

Life’s not always kind for those that remain behind,

 

The only reward for surviving the night, is the smell and sight of first light. 

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