Sunday and the Stour was in it's banks but still rushing relentlessly seawards. Quick check on a lovely roadside back stretch on the way down to Devil Dog Land. Bombing through but one promising far bank slack earmarked for a quick hour on the home, funeral plans confirmed for Thursday.
And of course someone else had spotted the slack. Typical. Not that I said that (or worse eh Loafer) out loud, pleasantries exchanged and there were fish in the slack and the crease ( I've touched out the obvious fish here red x's each fish was helpfully carrying). His attack was liquidised bred in a cage feeder and yellow maggot as the red x carrying fish were turning their nose up at reds or whites
I went as far up the short stretch as I was allowed and found a slow glide on the bend A longer trot than the picture suggests with a low branch half the way down.