A cold, cloudy and rainy afternoon destroyed my plans for a 3day fishing trip with my girlfriend.
She claimed that bad weather is not a problem but we all know better how it is when it rains
for a few days and the only shelter is the spruces.

We've decided to stay in a camp then and only from time to time to visit some fishing places close by.
During the first evening I’ve reminded myself of one story of my friend. This friend used to fish trout
on a bog behind our chalet 20 years ago.

Actually, it's just 300m away, just behind a thick forest and we have never had any free time to go there.

When I went through the forest I saw a beautiful meadow. I wasn't quite sure whether to go there or not
because in the distance I heard the sound of a thunderstorm. Of course, prudence won, I go to seek the water.

I reached the deep, slow moving canal which even speeded up in a few places and looked like a stream.
I went along it admiring incredible views and skipping deep bogs between tussock from time to time.

Sometimes when the downpour turned into drizzle, caddis flies were rising skipping the drops of rain.
I gave up and decided to go fishing.

I went there once again at the end of August. When I was crouching down in the gold grass, about 100m away from me
a deer galloped and cleared the water... I would have done anything to have had a camera in my hands at that moment ;)