Winter Swing

White Silence, light spey in the snow

When you fish a double handed rod, you enter in a kind of hypnotic transe. The largo tempo of the swing. The secret joy of the loop zooming out till the satisfying ‘tac’ of the straightening line…

It’s a whole contemplative world, actually. All wrapped up in warm clothes to resist the cold, yet thigh deep in icy water, you look at your breath in the chill breeze. Ice on the rocks. The mighty silence under the sound of running water. Everyone is cosy inside, but you went fishing. In the big silence.