vertical waves danced
In our area, everyone is waiting for the rise of the crucian carp from the Volga. Meanwhile, the fishermen checking the Little Kokshag on the subject of raising this crucian, in fact, every day, fall on a good bite of ide and a rather large roach. Moreover, according to reports, they catch absolutely no bait and the most ordinary worm. Someone finds his fish in the city, on the reservoir, dug in the river Kokshaghi. Caught mostly roach and less often podleschiki. And most recently, little sazanchikas were desperately pecking. Someone caught and released, and someone aggressively “pulled” them in dozens and put them in a bag. It turned out that last fall these sazanchikas were released into the Malaya Kokshagu River. But, either there was little information, or simply many elderly fishermen, who were not in tune with the computer, naturally did not go to the local forum and did not know about this act of releasing juveniles into the river. And in the newspapers, local journalists do not cover such a trifle. More in the course chernukha and golimye bytovuha, as in our central television. Only the program “112” which is on REN TV, during the viewing of which it seems that the journalists of this program are engaged only in digging in moral garbage dumps and swagging everything that smells badly on the pages of their vile television program. Continue reading
This story happened on Bolshoy Martyn Lake, on one of the very hot and sultry days when the air seemed to thicken, became hot and still. And it lasted a week, if not more. This ultimately had to lead to something. Such periods of complete calm and abnormal heat usually end in hurricanes and floods. But that day everything was different on the lake. At least on this lake. And then I heard that the hurricane had felled the forest somewhere in the area of the Ilet River and on to the village of Krasnogorsky. But – all in order.
And on the boat you did not fly
In the morning Pasha and I caught perch
He dragged Reds and prickly “sailors” from the raft, and I was catching perch near the boat. I also needed a boat from time to time to check for stubs placed along the edge of a strip of water lilies, which stretched across the very middle of the lake, starting from the ashes of the former winter houses and dugouts in a clean open meadow, and ending with a “squiggle” of water lilies in the direction the opposite shore, where in general everything is overgrown with grass. I set the fly-hooks in front of the pine knoll, where Pasha and I had set up a parking lot with a tent. Continue reading