Something about chub

There is something about chub. Even chublets.  Had a few roach yesterday as dusk fell, mostly burnished blues and bold reds and all with big shoulders. But this little chublet was  my prize of the late afternoon as the sky cleared, the frost began to sparkle on the lock railings and a pike-toothed new moon and Venus shone bright low in the sky.

Oh, and a kingfisher that arrowed in and crouched on the concrete sill just feet away, intent on the fry that always become active at this time in the lock. All Merlin could pick up from the increasing dusk chorus were the robins waiting for my left over maggots. The several times frozen corn went in for the fish 11 feet down.  

Hoping for an hour tomorrow at the tail of the weir, amongst the carpet of snow drops.