One of the unusual features of human mind is the curious interest we show in the behaviour and motivation of chickens. For instance I have lost count of the number of times people have asked me why the chicken crossed the road. And I have often been challenged to state what came first, the chicken or the egg?
The first question, the road one, has a large number of possible answers, each considered to be hilarious. The second question, about the egg, is supposed to entice us to stroke our chins in contemplation even though it is a pretty dumb question if you know anything about science. The most memorable answer that I can recall is the dismissive comment that a chicken is simply “an egg´s way of making another egg.”
There is even a good joke about the second question and I will tell it to you so you can repeat it and become the life and soul of the next social gathering you are invited to. Here it is:
A chicken and an egg are in bed together. The chicken looks over at the egg who is sitting propped up on the pillow and who leans over to take a cigarette from the bedside table and lights it up. Then the chicken, irritated, says “well I guess that answers that old question then!”
Out on the river a couple of weeks back I was doing my usual thing, sneaking around trying to catch fish, when a young woman appeared on the river bank. She called out to me. She was a little way distant and I could not make out what she wanted but eventually I realised that she wanted to cross the river. Christ knows why she did, or even why she should be out at a river early on a Sunday morning when everyone except deranged fishermen is tucked up in bed.
Anyway, I gave her a piggy back through the shallows so she could keep her feet dry. She was absolutely over the moon. She gave me a great hug and went on her way again. It never occurred to me to ask why she wanted to cross the river but there must have been something wrong with the side she had been on to start off with. As it happens, this is the thing that set me off thinking about chickens and the various reasons they wish to cross the road.
What was the fishing like? Pretty good, although the first stretch I visited was carrying a lot of white foam on the surface which covered it like a blanket. It was really odd. Whatever this foam was, it didn´t seem to bother the fish which were swimming around underneath. Some were even taking dries but the foam made the sight fishing poor and I decided to go exploring better water further upstream.
I took five barbel in the end, all on nymphs, and one or two came off. The last fish I hooked came off after a good battle. I hooked it in the shallow water at the mouth of a pool in, perhaps, eight inches of water. Places like this often seem to hold a fish or two but they need to be approached carefully.
I have taken to releasing most fish now without photographing them so that they can be quickly returned to the river. It is just a question of bringing them to hand and removing the barbless hook, often without taking them from the water. I have a few pictures from of the fish but they are buried in my camera and I have not had a chance to dig the out yet.
In the meantime we have this to think about…..
fishydreams 