For the first time this year, fish were rising, when I reached the banks of my syndicate river this week. The warm air was full of flylife and the trout had at last begun to rise to them.

Beneath trees, a good fish was raiding a cloud of small black flies scudding across the surface of a pool, following the cloud back and forth, making repeated attacks with splashy swirls.

The heavy Gold Head Hares Ear nymph, a near permanent fixture on the end of my line so far this year, was snipped off and a small Black Klinkhammer was tied on and I waded up from the shallows to get in position for a side cast, due to the overhanging trees. Second pass the fly was engulfed in a swirl. I struck too soon and missed. The Klink was still attached and the trout kept rising. Another take, a slower side strike and he was on, splashing to the surface, before tumbling off. No more rises.

I repeated this exercise further down the river, another good trout in the crease of a bend. This one jumped and came off. A pound plus . Upstream another fish was now rising steadily, coming up from beneath the opposite bank. I waded within range and he took with confidence, the ten inch trout fighting well for it’s size, a silver sided specimen.

It had now started raining heavily and I decided to call it a day, as the cattle upstream had muddied the river and my chances on the dry fly were limited.

The next day it was all change again, there was a chill in the air and not a sign of a rising fish, although the river looked in perfect condition. I decided to give my Black Devil nymph a try, a buzzer pattern with heavy copper ribbing, that fishes high in the water and has given me plenty of fish on a dour day. I had intended to wade up to where I’d lost my first fish the day before, but opted to have a few casts in a swirling pocket of  water on the way up. First cast and the line straightened and a four ounce trout came battling out across the shallows.

Another five trout came from this short stretch of river over the next thirty minutes, some silver sided, some greenish gold, the best a twelve inch fish that ran down to the pool below giving great sport. This makes me wonder, if we have two genus of brown trout in the river, giving this colour range.

Staying in the river I made my way down to another pool, just as, like a switch being pulled, trout began to rise in the most unlikely of places, untroubled by my progress. The small black flies were back in numbers and the Klinkhammer was tied back on, taking ten and six ounce browns among several misses from a deep run along the opposite bank.  As instantly as the rise had started, it stopped again and I made my way back to the van, not wanting to put down all the fish, leaving the river to be enjoyed by other club members.