A quest, a quest to find it forked
within a native tree
A noble quest indeed to find
A rest for my Lucy
Let me hark back to a post I made before Christmas. I have felt uncomfortable using modern rod rests for my cane rods for a while, it just doesn't seem right. A wooden fork just seemed the natural partner for 'Lucy', my Lucky Strike.
I have searched ancient woodland that once belonged to kings, hedgerows and the periphery of every water fished, in search of the perfect forked limb. I've always believed that 'the one' will be given up to me freely, so, upon seeing many perfect forked branches actually growing, they have been overlooked. To remove them forcibly, almost an act of sacrilege.
I've become obsessed, looking at every native (for it must be so) tree and shrub in a different light, searching for my very own Excalibur.
I happened to be angling at my beloved river Ouzel the other day, I had a wonderful day, it was perfect in every way. By the end of the session I was relaxed and content and I slowly packed up, having fed the remainder of my bait to the swans.
I turned, and there, just feet from where I'd sat, lay a pile branches, willow branches. One of them was looking at me, it was indeed 'the one'...and so I walked to it, and held it aloft triumphantly, my quest was over,