Revivial Pursuit, or, Some Kind of Bored Game

Misty sunrise near Farnborough, September 2011.
One of the benefits of a job that sometimes has me out at dusk and dawn

Well, here we go...

It had to happen eventually. I tried to resist, really I did, and managed to for about two years, but the temptation overwhelmed me in the end, although I can’t explain why - even to myself

Having spent the best part of the last two weeks laid-up with some kind of flu-bug, the possibility increased as I started to improve and amused myself by reading a wider range of blogs but kept coming back to the same few that I found most appealing...largely centred around natural history and angling in and around Warwickshire (clearly some kind of hotbed with an apparent, perhaps disproportionately, large contingent of Bloggers in this very County...with Daniel having just started too and now this - what is going on?)

Possibility became probability, and, before I realised what was happening, I was trying to think of potential names for it, most of which met with the word ‘rubbish’ when consulted upon in-house (literally), perhaps I should have called it that?, (no comments here please, it’s too early to cope with any criticism!)

Anyway, I had to put that to one side as the temptation to be too ‘clever’ and produce something with multiple meaning took hold, which isn’t good for me. So I by-passed the name and went for the word on the basis that the name would come, like naming a band. It remains to be seen how long this will linger as a word doc until such time as I paste it in, all tidied-up like, as a starter for ten...but only I will know in the end (it was a week)

So what’s it all about? Well, I was in discussion recently about influences that make children turn-out the way they do. One could say it’s luck, and clearly to a degree it is, but if you bring ‘em up right it seems likely they’ll come back round to it at some point in the future, i.e. after the 13-25 period which, let’s face it, is probably only 10% of a lifetime, so not too bad at all

In my own case however that period was peak ‘getting out there’ time. Having been treated to an interesting bird sighting after school, visited the favoured watercourse of the time at a weekend or simply spending time somewhere, anywhere, in the countryside in my childhood - combined with general chit-chat about, and a, then, ever-increasing interest in, various sports and music this continued right through to that time when life takes a different course and one immerses one’s own fruit to be simmered in that multi-ingredient juice blended with your own twist in the hope that it, too, turns-out in a similarly rounded form

That said, it is hopefully (...be more positive!...) probably, beginning to show through that this embryo-blog, more of a blegg at this point, is to make note of and consequently share events as I seek to revisit that world I once inhabited and extend it into new areas. I do not intend to thoroughly explain that world before I re-enter it as that will become more fully apparent as I proceed but hope to compare the present with the past in an objective manner when it seems relevant. The past will range loosely between 1975 and 1995 and will be contrasting various periods, mainly within that range, over-arched by the pursuit of coarse fish (the latter initially as an all-round pleasure/match angler and then for at least a decade solely as a canal match angler), birds and many other aspects of the natural world

Fortunately I kept my optical gear, as I use it for work, so no problem there, but the tackle collection has become denuded by sales, gift (by left hand rather than right, as the old saying goes), general rot and the tendency to narrowly specialise last time around. I won’t be match fishing again so there is another contrast to be experienced as I, perhaps, try to shake-of that ingrained desire to get a bite, any bite, and catch 'anything that swims'...or maybe I won't. That other contemporary ‘hit’ eBay is therefore taking precisely that and I have just taken delivery of what I would call my first ever ‘specialist’ rod, an AVON, my God, and me 50 next year!


We are fortunate enough to have a garden adjoining a marshy field which frankly offers sufficient interest in it's own right, especially in the depths of winter, not to need to venture far. The most unexpected visitors occasionally join us in the garden stream from time to time to avoid being frozen into the pasture and search of the odd morsel

Snipe from bedroom window. A winter visitor for a third consecutive year

Next time I post [if that is the correct ternimology (sic)] I hope to have something mildly interesting to record; it might be about revisiting an old fishing haunt, it could be about bats (flying, or cricket), birds, newts, anything that moves in fact (and some things that don't) or a wider comment but hopefully overall it will be sufficiently engaging to be shared by a few others as I re-take this journey

I hope to be introducing little quirks that have stuck with me from my trips, of whatever type, over the years but that little lot dear reader, if indeed you are yet out there, is where I’m going to be coming from, or more to the point, going to...'can't wait!