Goodbye Mr. Heron
Greetings!
A walk
along a river after a fresh fall of snow is always a revealing thing. You
really don't realise how much the banks are rural superhighways. By day most of
the creatures stay away, but at night, and most especially in the hours
immediately after dark and prior to dawn many are on the move.
Foxes track
the river until a bridge affords them a crossing. Hares are clearly not evolved
or trusting of human structure; arriving from the downs to turn back from the
water at 45 degrees to head who knows where. Otters? Well, they don't care
marking out territory with spraints that look like burnt cinders against the
whiteness. Ducks, moorhens, water voles.... well, just anyone who is anybody in
this riparian community leaves a trace.
I trundled
down the Wallop Brook on one such morning last month. Somewhere in the distance a volley of shots had rang
out. A slew of wood pigeons raced across the sky, dodging and
weaving. Ahead, clear against the snow lay something grey, close to the
water's edge. I hoped it was a pigeon but in my heart I knew it wasn't. It was
too big and too grey. My first instinct was to assume that the cold had got
him; the unseasonal frigid elements finally ending his life. But as I picked up
Mr. Heron he was still warm and as his neck flopped over with his long yellow
beak pointing groundward, a little trickle of fresh blood came from a small
puncture in his neck.
In truth I
didn't know what to do with him, so I held him for a while. Herons, for such
apparently big birds, are surprisingly light and on close examination that beak
is really quite the weapon. Mr. Heron had been a fixture at The Mill for years
and this was the closest I had ever been to him. For the most part he patrolled
the meadows alongside Brook; the number of frogs, toads, water voles,
bullheads, rabbits, moles, fish, ducklings and insects pincered in that beak
must run to ten of thousands for he seemed to be forever on the look-out for
prey.
Most
mornings I'd wake up to him patrolling the edge of the trout lake. He was never
really that successful. I can't recall ever seeing him with a fish and only
occasionally did we come across a corpse. I'm guessing he acknowledged that as
he never put up much resistance, taking flight with that idiosyncratic little
hop as soon as the first human of the day put in an appearance, languidly
flying the fifty yards that took him over the fence.
Now he is
gone I rather miss him. For the time being the white egret rules the roost but
that is temporary. Herons are territorial so I'm sure a replacement will arrive
soon but as for Mr. Heron I cast him adrift in the stream to let nature find
his final resting place.
Who would you save: heron or duckling?
On the subject of herons there was a most bizarre incident
reported in the national and local press last week when a man killed a heron to
save the life of a duckling it had just eaten.
As The Times reported, 'For one man who saw a heron
pluck a duckling from the water in front of him and swallow it whole, enough
was enough. The man decided to intervene and save the life of the duckling, by
killing the heron and pulling the baby bird still alive, from its stomach.'
The North Wales rural crime team who questioned then released the
elderly man with a caution Tweeted, 'Strangely he actually did rescue the
duckling alive from the dead heron's stomach. But obviously he was then left
with a dead heron. You couldn't make this up!'
I think on that we'd all agree and the whole tale probably makes
for a good morality question: heron or duckling? That said I do wonder who goes
around equipped to kill, then eviscerate, as sturdy a bird as a heron. Very
bizarre.
London Fly Fishing Fair
I can't be sure how the economics of the London Fly Fishing Fair
will stack up for us but it was great fun and a pleasure to catch up with the
many of you who dropped by to say hello.
I managed
to persuade our cover girl Marina Gibson to pose with our new brochure (thank
you Marina) and I had a fascinating chat with Ed Porter (he is the one with the
beard....) who you may or may not recognise from his time in the Orvis
Stockbridge store, though he hadn't gone 'native' at the time for he now runs
Hidden Gem Fly Fishing in Fiji.
It is a
hell of a place to get to. Prepare yourself for three connections, the thick
end of 24 hours and goodness knows how many time zones. But it does look pretty
amazing with big game fly fishing for yellow fin tuna and marlin, plus all the
inshore species such as trevally. The gear guide for a 12 wt rod and tippet
material of 30lb-130lb gives a clue to what might just be on the end of your
line.
Grayling
feedback winner
I think we
had one of our busiest ever grayling seasons, which went right down to the wire
with some of you fishing on the very last day, not to mention others who headed
out even in the snow. Now that shows dedication!
Well done
to Kieron Harney who wins the new style Fishing Breaks snood fishing at
Donnington Grove on the River Lambourn back in November. We are now officially
back with the trout so I've picked as the grand draw prize for 2018 the rather
cool Simms Guide pliers with the snoods the monthly prize.
Quiz
Back to
usual this time with a quiz purely dedicated to the pleasure of knowing you are
right. Answers, as ever, at the bottom of the page.
1)
Fiji,
granted independence in 1970, was a colony of which country?
2)
Who,
in the bible, was swallowed by a whale for three days and nights?
3)
What
was the name of the whaling ship in the novel Moby Dick?
Hope you
had a good Easter.
Best wishes,
Founder & Managing Director
Quiz answers:
1) Britain
2) Jonah
3) Pequod
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