“Gonna see the river man
Gonna tell him all I can
About the plan”
Spent the morning before watching four different YouTube videos on reading river structure. Fast water folding into a deep pool, shaded bank, slower water pooling where the trees choke the flow, textbook holding water, according to every single one of them.
Found exactly that spot on a horseshoe bend outside Newbridge-on-Wye. Fished it from half two in the afternoon to five past ten that night. Nearly eight hours. Changed flies more times than I can remember. Not one bite. Not one follow. Nothing.
At some point around eight I stopped pretending the fish were coming and just started photographing the light instead, long shadows stretching across the gravel, the pool going still and gold as the sun dropped behind the trees. Ended up going back through my own phone footage afterwards and screenshotting the best bits, because half the good shots weren't even planned, they were just there in the background of me swearing at my line.
Came home with zero trout and probably my favourite set of river photos this year. Scotland's booked. The Lakes after that. I will catch something eventually, out of pure spite if nothing else.