slaphead
Well-known member
7.30 am onwards for me, I can then fish for as long as I feel like.
''Favoured time of day''.
- Thread starter Derek Gibson
- Start date
Ray Daywalker Clarke
Well-known member
First thing in the morning for me, anytime of year.
Sun coming ups, mist on the water in summer.
Sun coming up and frost on the ground, Autumn and Winter.
Sun coming up, and the wildlife is all you can hear. This is a great time plenty of young wildlife to see, Spring.
I don't think there is anything that can beat the sound of nothing but wildlife, while your sitting having that morning cuppa while fishing.
Sun coming ups, mist on the water in summer.
Sun coming up and frost on the ground, Autumn and Winter.
Sun coming up, and the wildlife is all you can hear. This is a great time plenty of young wildlife to see, Spring.
I don't think there is anything that can beat the sound of nothing but wildlife, while your sitting having that morning cuppa while fishing.
robtherake
Well-known member
I love to listen to the dawn chorus starting up just before the light makes an appearance, and that time when the greys of early morning slowly give way to the colours of the day: it's magical.
However - as far as fishing's concerned - I prefer the last few hours of light, where I've had far more success. That last half-hour of daylight has me on the edge of my seat, blood singing with anticipation.
It's also the time when Mr Snuffles the hedgepig and that silent hunter, the big and beautiful barn owl, put in their appearances. That brief image of glowing plumage lit up by the last light of the dying day is one I never tire of seeing.
I sat and had a chat with Mr Snuffles one balmy evening, ambling by in the half-light as I was packing up one night - actually knelt right next to it (presumably used to humans, to some extent) and watched it relax and unroll, sniff the air with that highly mobile little snout and carry on with its nocturnal ramble, hips rolling comically and totally unperturbed. In't fishing brilliant.
However - as far as fishing's concerned - I prefer the last few hours of light, where I've had far more success. That last half-hour of daylight has me on the edge of my seat, blood singing with anticipation.
It's also the time when Mr Snuffles the hedgepig and that silent hunter, the big and beautiful barn owl, put in their appearances. That brief image of glowing plumage lit up by the last light of the dying day is one I never tire of seeing.
I sat and had a chat with Mr Snuffles one balmy evening, ambling by in the half-light as I was packing up one night - actually knelt right next to it (presumably used to humans, to some extent) and watched it relax and unroll, sniff the air with that highly mobile little snout and carry on with its nocturnal ramble, hips rolling comically and totally unperturbed. In't fishing brilliant.