Every now and then you catch a fish that you know will lodge in the memory. It may not necessarily be a monster, but something in the circumstances of its capture will make it stand out. I had one of those fish yesterday evening just as the light was going and I thought all chances of a fish had passed me by.

I have often failed to catch anything and sometimes you get that feeling that this is just not going to be your day. That was certainly the way things felt yesterday. The fish were few and far between, and when I did finally manage to locate a few, they showed no interest in my nymph.

I worked my way downstream until I ran out of fishable river and damn near out of fishable light. A curious thing seems to happen in the late evening; the gypsy barbel seem to vacate the fast flows and move up into the shallow pools. I suspect that many may feed in the shallows at night and “hole up” in the relative safety of the shallow runs during the day. Who knows?

In the fading light yesterday it was possible to make out the forms of fish entering a pool from a fast stretch. It was one of these I managed to take. I put the nymph in front of him and gave it as much time as I thought was needed and tightened up. And then the fish went ballistic and zipped off into the distance and all I could do was to stay in touch and apply enough side strain to prevent him getting in among some branches upstream.

He was a lovely fish, strong and spirited, and I had just enough light left to take a photograph before I let him on his way again. Once the water supported him, he left my hands and it only took a few casual strokes of its tail before he was swallowed by the darkening river.

And I couldn´t have been happier.