Issue 54 - Derbyshire Diary 'A Regular Rod'
It was near the end of the day. The milky sunlight, which all day long had been slipping through the cracks in the clouds, was fading and signalling that it might soon be time to pack up. A nice grayling had just been returned and whilst drying my hands, I looked upriver in time to see the surface disturbed by many rings appearing under a large alder on the opposite bank. In an instant I was transported back more than thirty years to a similar occurrence.

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