Data Protection and Bagging Up on Amber Rudd

G'day everyone, did I mention that we'd been to Australia?

I did?

Ok, well there is still much to discuss on the matter but on this occasion I shall refrain so here's some parish messages.

With a nod to the current cult of Data Protection can all readers confirm that they arrived at this place of their own accord, nothing has been forced upon them or suggestions been made by way of spam email or leaflets through the post and there has been no mention of PPI or an offer made of marriage from the east.

Terms and conditions may/may not apply but things do seem to be getting a tad complicated with regard to chucking up guff.

Sign on the dotted line if you agree with the aforementioned and are happy/ resigned to peruse this nonsense further.


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Data protection box ticked we shall now attend to recent events and the state of play for the impending trout fishing season.

With jetlag finally conquered (did I mention that we'd been away?) Exploits in the name of left foot right foot in order to prolong life have resumed. We seem to have developed a worrying propensity to turn a planned five miler into something nearer eight but there are worse places to bumble about blindly than the beeches and bluebells of Micheldever wood.

Four and a bit miles a little closer to home this weekend and at this point I'd ask you all to prepare yourselves for what some corners of the media would call a "reveal" Also known as a "revelation" I can reveal that it hasn't been as wet a winter as many are making out.

Or if it has been an unusually wet winter, the aquifers at the end of last summer were depleted way beyond what some would have us believe.

Yes the Fake News, and phoney figures have been a particular bugbear in this parish with regard to a variety of subjects so at this point we will assess the state of play by examining the actualite.

Here's one of Madam and Otis on the Common on Sunday afternoon. It is a path we have trodden for twenty six years. We find it very soothing as we are confident in the route and rarely get lost. At this point there is a fork in the road. Right leads through some boggy bits where springs should rise at this time of year, the world's worst spaniel got stuck in one once. To the left leads to slightly higher ground that the world's worst spaniel subsequently sought out on later visits no matter the time or year.

Today we swung right and made passage with ease.

Here's one of us cresting the summit of Postman's walk. We've walked this way before on recently cultivated fields and exited several inches taller with half the field stuck to our boots.

Today our cleats remained relatively free of organic matter.

and on the water meadow upstream, lambs gyre and gimble in the wabe with little fear of foot rot.








And then there is this field known across the ages as "Spring bottom" which has featured on here many times of late.

It remains spring free despite the "wet winter" touted in some quarters.

I could go on, and yes the river is in fine condition, but if the winter has been as wet as some are making out, the aquifers must have been depleted beyond what the same bunch had us believe over the past few years.

I'll leave it there, and just be thankful that the river is bank high and pushing through nicely. and well done the what used to be known as a "normal" winter for that.

The bridge is complete and Photoshop has levelled it up nicely. It was a steady job that took just over a week with materials for construction stored on higher ground a bit further away than one would normally have liked. Consequently The to-and-fro was increased by a factor of five and probably added a day or two to the job. Banks are decidedly squidgy and wellingtons are the footwear of first choice for the angler, as it should be at this time of the year. A brace of Great Egret flew by last week. Little Egret are a given in this valley but their blown up cousins are a little more rare. Roughly the size of a Heron they always seem a little short of confidence and are often moved on by a resident Heron or a couple of crows.

I'll just break off there.

Didn't pet shops used to sell Amber Rudd?


Or was it Golden Rudd?




It's one of the two but I remember bagging up on Amber/Golden Rudd in a match on a small estate lake when I was a student living and working on the middle main river.

Anyway,

Trout Fishing has just broken out in these parts with a brace of three pound fish already in the book albeit in chilly conditions. What hawthorn there were went early and the hatch was done and dusted late last week but the fish still know what they are. Olives are about and the vanguard of the Mayfly are on the cusp of entering stage left.

Everything is waking up and and all manner of creatures creep about the place, It's a terrific time of the year to be bumbling about in this special valley.

With another campaign medal earned orange saws briefly basked in two stroke valhalla before a substantial ash tree cashed in its chips and to lie prone across the Mill Stream. It's not causing any obstruction but it will have to be dealt with next week. The logs will be welcome but it always feels a little odd putting on the super warm chainsaw troos to tackle a tree which was on the cusp of bursting into life.

It was reported last week that aquifers in the Vosges in the North East of France were being put under pressure by over abstraction, principally by bottled water business in the town of Vittel.

Bottled water by the way is not bound by the rules that dictate Cornish Pasties and Melton Mowbray pies must come from the actual place they are named after. I once worked at a large trout hatchery with a million gallons a day of spring water bursting out of the ground that was purchased by Perrier because the water roughly matched the analysis of the water at the original Perrier spring.

Vittel are now having to seek another source for some of their water because the town is fast running dry and some of the stunning streams in the Jura are being impacted upon.

We walked their limestone banks a decade or so ago when children were children. The spectacular waterfalls will live long in the memory as will the hatch of olives and the numerous rises on a break abroad sans rods in the boot.