There it is … mid-day at Cockrobbin Island – standing on the bridge and barely a breath of air stirring the water, now just starting to run out on a long afternoon tide. We had to do the detour out this way for a lunch break in between work locations. Although not a fish was seen, it’s the kind of place that invokes a sense of awe – big tide water moving steadily down and out to sea. Normally a windy morass on any summer afternoon, it sits here quietly now, a cause for just stopping and watching. A wall of fog sits on the beach, maybe ready to move in later in the afternoon, shutting everything into an eerie grey stillness on Halloween’s eve. A thousand birds dot the water, shoals of pipers working the growing flats downstream, grebes working the open water and cries of seagulls reminding us of our proximity to the salt.
The tides will be optimal for the next three nights and this sort of scenario makes for tough fly tying conditions – hurriedly whipping out a few mock shrimp for the clear water that shows at the bottom of the tide. The witching hour is growing near.
Shaken Rain 