The great freeze has ended.
The people of Hampshire have dug themselves out of the great snow drifts.
Some over a inch deep.
River ice flows away and the ducks put away their ice skates for another year.
An intrepid Angler returns to the river; hopeful of a first Perch or even a greedy Chub.
He moves from swim to swim; braving gangs of malnourished Swans.
The water is a green brown colour and ice cold to the touch.
Trotting, ledgering or freelining. It makes no difference; no bites are forthcoming.
As the light fades the float bobs under. The Angler strikes, the fish stubbornly hugs the bottom.
With a great effort he brings the beast to the surface.
He stands there in amazement, his mind unbelieving of his hard won prize.
A shed panel.
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