Have you ever had the feeling of being observed despite no one being around, the sense that you are being stalked, your every move watched, a hidden assailant waiting for that opportunity to strike? Here is one such case and I managed to catch the dastardly culprit on camera.
It all started out pretty ordinary, although It was a freezing winters day on the upper Lea, the backwater had a thin layer of ice on it so I set up on the river as I had the whole place to myself. I was the only one mad enough to be down here but sometimes these days are special when it's just you and nature. I set up my float gear and shared the first few swims with a pair of robins which was just as well as I couldn't find any fish.
I was to roam the whole stretch that day on my own, ok it isn't too much of a walk but it kept me warm working my way along the twists and turns of the river. Just when I thought I was going to blank a bit of long trotting bought a tiny roach and I was elated. I settled down in this spot, a long narrow glide and hoped for another bite down the bottom where two trees offered some cover.
Bites came, not thick and fast but true winter style, nearly all roach with the odd chublet and dace thrown in, the float going under in exactly the same spot each time. I must have had around a dozen fish before I noticed it's gaze, I'm not sure when it appeared or from where but it was there watching, waiting.
Now herons are a funny old bird, more so when you take the time to watch them and even more so when you watch them watching you. Soon the watching turned to action as each fish was eyed up with ever increasing alertness, If it had big ears they would be pricked up, like a cat with a piece of string or dare I say a mouse, my fish were the mice for this heron.
Soon there was movement, I was still catching but after every fish the heron would bound along the opposite bank behind the two trees in pursuit, seemingly getting further upstream each time and closer to me. I can't recall to this day whether they run or hop but it seemed to be a mix of the two. I suppose ungainly would be the best description of it's gait, I can tell you one thing they sure ain't built for running.
What happened with the next fish was bizarre as the heron followed it once more until directly opposite however this time taking flight towards me all wings and beak, this swim is one where I can touch the far bank with my rod tip so the heron looked absolutely enormous as it must have been less than ten feet away. I suppose ungainly would be the best way to describe it's hovver too. I half shooed it away with a combination of shouting and rod waving although I was conscious of not breaking the latter.
Out came the camera and I took a pic of it there all grumpy on the bank, that's what we must look like when we miss a good bite. It hadn't even bothered to drop down anymore and do it's funny run, it was now waiting where the action was at and that was right in front of me. The camera stayed on, an old tiny Canon that cost me a tenner off ebay, I put the strap around the wrist and tried to catch another roach. It would be cool to capture the heron doing that hovver thing I thought.
So now I'm in again and i'm trying to play the fish and hold a camera, the heron was poised and this time I was ready too, I had front row tickets to my own private show, I would get the photo and scare the heron off again, simple. However there was a few things I misjudged, firstly the ability of being a photographer whilst fishing is not one I appear to have, secondly I didn't twig that it was a larger roach and thirdly this heron really wasn't messing about.
Bringing the roach up and camera ready I didn't expect the poor redfin's strong dash to the far side.Oh No! Of all the places to go! The heron did it's hoover all right but quickly piled straight into the water, I pressed the camera button like mad and tried to draw the roach away - it was too late. I didn't think it would actually get it but it did with stunning accuracy. I stared dumbfounded as my line went airborne, with the heron flying away seemingly in slow motion before we parted company. Surreal was the best way to describe reeling in my float from the woods opposite, it was a complete tangle but everything was there, minus the roach and of course the heron.
I must have sworn I really must but in all honesty what I said was a blur. The thing I remember most was looking down at the water as an oily slick from the bird made it's way downstream, the water was lapping like a speedboat had ploughed through before It settled and you could now hear a pin drop. I was glad I had the place to myself. I still did a double check, a full 360 degrees. There was no one there but me.
I thought about carrying on but it felt weird. weirder still was the feeling I was being watched again, sure enough a familiar face appeared opposite, all legs and beak, you know who. Like a fox among the chickens this heron wasn't done for the day, however I sure was! You know you need to call it a day when you are talking to the wildlife, I bid the heron a farewell begrudgingly admiring the squawky old thief.
I got home and had a look at the pics, I never did mange to capture that hovver, I was pleased to get the action shot though although I wonder where I had the rod looking at it now. Also I can't make out the float, I was only fishing two feet deep and there's a slight red mark near the top of the wing or maybe it's under the water somewhere. Can you flick a rod so quick a float doesn't show in a photo? Well I clearly wasn't quick enough for the heron.
I often think of predators now on freezing cold days knowing what lengths they have to go to to survive, I had a nice beer in my warm home that evening and raised a glass to those toughing it out in the cold winters out there, especially the heron, after all it did have the biggest fish of the day.
