Although I have eaten my catch on occasions, the real thrill is the challenge of catching the fish, the joy of being there, the peace and tranquility as you quietly sit and ponder your next move. The delight as a wild animal scampers into view, oblivious of your presence, or a bird lands on your rod and uses it for a temporary perch. The heart stopping moment as a leviathan slowly surfaces in your swim and almost but not quite, slurps your bait into its cavernous mouth. Then with a flick of its tail it's gone and you spend the next half hour waiting like a coiled spring for it to return.
Fishing for me has never been about numbers caught or personal best fish. It's about fulfilling a need to be there, that has existed within me for as long as I can remember. After enjoying catching a fish, it's a pleasure to admire it and slip it gently back into the water.
I can still remember the magic of my first fishing trips almost 60 years ago.
Imagine walking across a field as you head towards the bank of a lake or a river, spin-drift suspended between blades of grass catching the first rays of the sun. A slight mist rising from the ground giving a feeling of mystery and promise to the day ahead.
There is nothing to compare.