It had not been a good day.

But then it had not been a good month.

Or a good quarter year even.

Life had worn me down somewhat, largely because I’ve got myself into a position at work I’m not happy with and one which I see limited opportunities of extricating myself from.

I’d sat all morning by an old monastery pond, during a rainstorm, and caught only a tiny perch. My only luck was in not catching a cold as well. Relocating to a river seemed a sensible idea, particularly as the sun was due to appear in the afternoon.

This did prove more successful in terms of catching fish (though they were few and not very big), but the sun didn’t turn up and it continued raining on and off all afternoon.

Rarely do I feel anything other than contentment when fishing, but I was starting to feel distinctly glum. Soggy and glum is not a good combination.

And then I reeled in this little fellow.

Has a smaller fish ever been caught on a size twelve hook and five, yes five, maggots?

At the time it just tickled me as the smallest fish I’d ever caught. But over the next twenty-four hours this small piscine creature swam round and round in my mind. I have touched before on the life lessons that can be taken from tiny critters and this one certainly made me think. In attacking a bait almost as big as itself it showed a hunger for life that was both impressive and slightly crazy.

So what did I take from that?

Well, that life is for living and not moping and if I can’t reduce the grim bits of life that I can’t control, then I need to increase the positive aspects. And a big part of that has to be doing something creative. I’ve a few ideas that’ve been hanging around for a while and I certainly need to reinvigorate work on my tree book.

And to get better at fishing.

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