We walk upstream in search of some fish action. We make our way through literal clouds of little grannoms, trying not to
breathe them as we go along the bank and spitting out of the mouth the ones that get inhalated by mistake.
This orgy of pulsating life is inversely proportional to the surface fish activity. Incredibly, where fish were rising during the
afternoon there is no sign, no matter if we use emerger or nymph.
As we reach a flat with slow current and it is too dark to try to change the fly, a couple of solitary rings give us the
final challenge. There is one ring for each one of us, with a tiny deer-hair sedge I release a nice grayling that was sipping
The last impression of the day is its flank twinkling under the moonlight while I set him back free to return into
his element. Have a nice summer !