Old Man Weather
Back in the days when it was still possible to fish a wild stream for native trout, I came across an anonymous poem that was handy for deciding whether to actually go fishing, or to just say you were, and head for the nearest pub. It went something like this:
When the wind is in the North,
The fisherman does not go forth.
When the wind is in the South,
It blows the bait into the fish's mouth.
When the wind is in the East,
The fish bite the least.
When the wind is in the West,
The fish bite the best.
Mostly, I learned from this poem that if I went out the door, fishing pole in hand, there would be a 50/50 chance I was headed for a pub.
May all your winds be fair in this new year...
Old Man Weather
Back in the days when it was still possible to fish a wild stream for native trout, I came across an anonymous poem that was handy for deciding whether to actually go fishing, or to just say you were, and head for the nearest pub. It went something like this:
When the wind is in the North,
The fisherman does not go forth.
When the wind is in the South,
It blows the bait into the fish's mouth.
When the wind is in the East,
The fish bite the least.
When the wind is in the West,
The fish bite the best.
Mostly, I learned from this poem that if I went out the door, fishing pole in hand, there would be a 50/50 chance I was headed for a pub.
May all your winds be fair in this new year...