04:10 - The magic begins...


Plagued by hot weather and a lack of rain for nearly four months our rivers are low and sparklingly clear. The days have seen bright, cloudless skies easily putting down any self-respecting trout and any semblance of 'action' has been kept firmly confined to the hours just after sunrise and those just prior to sunset.

There are rules and there are exceptions to rules; no one should have to be up at 4am on a Saturday morning but the exception here, of course, is that Im on my way to the River Usk, bleary eyed but intent on beating the sun and those high mid-day temperatures.

Rivers are magical things, more so when enjoyed during the early mornings before even the birds have began to sing; I find its chattering riffles and sparkling lights enchanting, and the cool morning air helps to rid the last cobwebs of sleep.

At 5am I find myself standing on the banks of The Red River tying on one of the favoured size #22 Blue Winged Olive paraduns and, surprisingly, without so much of a hint of tiredness about me; I smile inwardly as I watch a trout methodically sip emerging midge and the remainder of last night's blue wing spinners from the surface film.

She lies in a far-bank food lane, as they always seem to; a reach cast is made to a point just a few feet above the spotted feeding she-fish. She inspects and is, surprisingly, quickly satisfied; the angler lifts gently and is graciously permitted to dance with one of natures most beautifully evolved creations. Several jumps, runs, skipped heartbeats and, after a five minute fight, she is gently held in the recuperating and cooling flows of this wonderful river. A metaphorical bow and the two entities part company, the she-fish swimming strongly and confidently back to her cover, no doubt to sulk for an hour or two.

As the sun rises the heat mounts, and as the heat mounts the surface feeding declines to that of a trickle. It is now mid-day, and a host of formidably sized wild trout have been deceived by fur and feather.

The day began magically in the early half-light and ended blissfully in the warmth of a summers mid-day.

Until next time...

04:15 - Heavenly waters at first light.


That magical she-fish...


...and safely returned.




Early morning lights and pastel shades.


Stocked trout, I think not. Wild perfection with fins.


Summer foliage and without a bare branch in sight.


Fly fishing tackle, evolved.


A healthy sign, the River Usk boasts a healthy amount of fry.


Deceived by fur and feather: the two-pounder who tried to eat a #20 Copper John.


The river narrows...


...and Mostyn makes an undercover cast.


Spotted like a leopard...


...before her safe release.


A suumer poppy, Papaver rhoeas.