Saturday October 1st I was woken by the sound of my phone. A glance confirmed my expectation. It was already 4.30 am. since I the day before had decided that I wanted to go fishing this Saturday morning. There were several reasons for choosing this day: I had an arrangement at "the red holiday cottage" around noon, the weather forecast was favorable, there were plenty of fish in the river, and, finally, it was my forty-ninth birthday.
The first sight out of the window of the holiday cottage, which I had arrived at the night before, confirmed the feeling in my body. It was cold outside with a dark but almost clear night sky and the sunrise was still out of sight. A train of thoughts hits you, when look out the window an early morning which everyone can relate to. Thoughts like: It is too cold, “the sea trout will hold back” or “there is a mist, sleep another hour and it will disperse”, was put away and I got dressed.
My fishing rod was outside the cottage in its rod holder. Still fresh in my memory was last night’s adventures. A fine sea trout on shore and a, perhaps, even finer sea trout which got away. A quick look at the rod, corroborated that the gear was ready and it was time for breakfast.
Shortly after, dressed in waders, with the rod in my hand and the camera around my neck, I crossed the meadow to my chosen starter’s point. This was spot, where I had stopped the night before. The cold bit in my hands and I remembered that the weather forecast had predicted a wonderful morning with sun and rising temperatures.
The fly hits the water for the first time and despite years of experience, I just had to find the other bank in the dark. No wind was tricky, and after a couple of throws, the length of the line was perfect and I could start fishing. I could hear something rustling around me in the grass and meadow. Even though the noise was loud, I knew that even a mouse can sound like an elephant when your senses are increased in the dark of the night.
Nature began to stir and the first streak of light appeared in east and suddenly dark was replaced by incipient daybreak. Watching nature awake unconsciously, got me to stop concentrating on my fishing. A lucky location according to the light and the mist made me take the camera and if only a picture could show what the eye can see.
Quite a few photos later and pinching my arm, I realized that I was more than lucky to be at this wonderful river valley om my birthday with the most beautiful sunrise right in front of me.
Time had become secondary and so was the fishing. It was all about following the course of the light and be the right place when sun broke through. When I wasn’t looking in my camera, I enjoyed the early morning and wondered where I should take the next picture.
I suddenly saw that I was no longer the only early bird that caught the worm. On the opposite bank of the river, despite that hunters soon would appear in the meadow, I saw Reynard on the line. Cautiously he got closer to the path where anglers choose to walk when finished fishing. This morning the fox had the path all to himself, and, in safe distance, he kept a watchful eye on me before he disappeared between manna grass and willow scrub.
I didn’t catch any fish that morning, I didn’t fish much and no trade stories about fishing were told. Instead hundreds of photos were taken, and the chief motive Karup River, which was wrapped in mist and daybreak, was forever immortalized. The experience of nature waking in the river valley was photographed in a countless number of angles. When the sun broke free of the horizon on its daily journey from east to west, it was time to pack the camera, the fishing pole and a bag full of events, and return to the holiday cottage.
What a wonderful morning it had been. A perfect birthday morning, and even though I didn’t do much fishing, the Karup River showed another side of itself in the most favorable light.