A Contented Man.

This morning dawned clear and crisp with a heavy frost, everything had a white coating and as the sun came up red from behind Cannock Chase the whole world caught fire, sparkling red and gold with the promise of a fair day. Even the old dog seemed to be glad to be out and about. Right I thought, a perfect chance to test out my pike tackle; so after breakfast I delved into my fishing locker, raided the fridge for some sprats that somehow had survived from our last fish tea and set up for a day on the bank.
What a perfect day, no wind, virtually no boat traffic, just me and the local wildlife. A buzzard wheeled overhead, mewing to his mate while two pairs of coots vociferously discussed the ownership of a stretch of reed bed. The copse opposite was filled with birdsong as from the fields beyond came the bleating of the young lambs, the only intrusive sound was the occasional rumble of a train from across the valley.
When I finally put the rod away my soul mate had prepared pork steaks in lemon juice, brown sugar, soy sauce and ginger, a perfect precursor to some delightful pancakes, today being Shrove Tuesday.
I am now sitting with a cup of tea and chocolate wholemeals, a contented man.
Ah I hear you ask, did you have any luck with the fish? I always point out it is not a matter of luck but of skill and I must admit I appeared to be singularly lacking in both, not a bite, but you can't have everything.