I remember the good evenings I have fished, even the ones that realised material hopes not by the fish that came to the fly, but by the colour and movement of the water and sky, by the sounds and scents and gentle stirrings that were all about me.


A River Never Sleeps (ed. 2014)


I remember the good evenings I have fished, even the ones that realised material hopes not by the fish that came to the fly, but by the colour and...

I remember the good evenings I have fished, even the ones that realised material hopes not by the fish that came to the fly, but by the colour and...

I remember the good evenings I have fished, even the ones that realised material hopes not by the fish that came to the fly, but by the colour and...

I remember the good evenings I have fished, even the ones that realised material hopes not by the fish that came to the fly, but by the colour and...