Saturday, 10 May 2014

I went down to a hazel wood.

           The Song of Wandering Aengus. W.B. Yeats.
          

     I went down to a hazel wood,
   Because a fire was in my head,
  And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
  And hooked a berry to a thread;
  And when white moths were on the wing,
  And moth-like stars were flickering out,
  I dropped the berry in a stream
  And caught a little silver trout.

Saturday 9th May 2014.

It has been over a month since I have posted on my blog and also a few weeks since I`ve had a chance to spend some time in the woods, so today with the forecast for heavy rain and strong winds I headed out to enjoy the sights and sounds of the calm before the storm. With the opening lines of Yeats poem (see above) in my mind I headed for a patch of hazel wood overlooking the River Lickey where I knew the bluebells would be making an appearance.                                                                                                   
 

                   The lovely woodland found on the banks of
                   the River Lickey, one of the many tributaries
                   of the Munster Blackwater.  

The soft glow of  blues and greens in the wood was just magical. I sat for a half an hour or so to see if the red squirrels would make an appearance and even though there wasn`t any sign of them today it was so nice to take in the atmosphere while having a cup of tea.

      The sound of the stream below was inviting so I went to the car to get my fly rod which I had brought with me. I had a few casts in a pool on the river and it was good to see life in river doing its thing after such a wild winter. Even though I only fished for five or ten minutes I caught six or seven small brown trout and a couple of lovely salmon smolts. The smolts were in their lovely silver colour which they put on just before they leave the river to go to sea where they will spend the next few years growing until they then return back to the Lickey to spawn.

One of the small brown trout
which I caught on the Lickey today.

 


   A salmon smolt with the silver colour that it puts on before going to sea to feed and grow to adult size.





Below is a video clip of the river just before the rain. As I turned the camera towards the riverbank to show the woodland and the bluebells I spotted a quick flash of a bird disappearing into a treehole. I zoomed in to see a pair of blue tits had set up house.


To finish this blog post I had better also give that wonderful poem by W.B. Yeats in full.

          The Song of Wandering Aengus.

 I went down to a hazel wood,
 Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
and walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.