A Spot Of Fishing

As promised here are some photos that got entangled in my lines as I fished the River Cam for.....well, what do we hope to catch? I've heard it said that many spend their whole lives fishing without knowing that it's not fish that they're really after.

Maybe photographers are the same; maybe we hope to capture something more than mere pictures...

Might we one day get lucky and preserve forever that moment of recognition, that instant where we leave ourselves and become part of the bigger picture?

...or perhaps we'll learn to just accept things as they really are, in all their imperfection and weariness.

Or see whole worlds in the wildflowers and weeds of the riverbank, planted generously and wisely by chance breezes and currents.

Or maybe the hand of man can place things just so, without any real plan or intention. Do things the way they do, just because they're the kind of people they are.

But there be pirates, lad, swashbuckling and rough-handed. Best keep moving and steer well clear!

If you cut free and cast your fate to the seasons you may run aground and be forever becalmed among the willows and reeds. Pleasant enough in summer but what of autumn, what of winter?

A little dock and a shed for the harbourmaster, a toytown gate and a place to sit down.

Or could you build, outlandish and patchwork, with a rickety fence to keep the floodwaters at bay?

But in the end all will return to the rolling river. Floods will wash away the vain, impermanent and eccentric and return everything once more to green, rampant vegetation and the ever-flowing waters. A place for nature alone...

....and, of course, fishermen.

Take care.