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Now I am not a religious man. To all outward appearances, I am as sane
and sensible as the next man, quite normal. Really, I am. Indeed, I am
sure I am not very different from most of those reading this article.
Yet I do, from time to time, get the feeling that perhaps something is
amiss, that I am somehow just a little bit out of the ordinary. The odd
sideways glance, the occasional raised eyebrow, a look, even, of
incomprehension on the faces of those I meet, when talking about
something as simple as the weather, give me pause for thought and force
me to face reality. Yes, I must confess. I am a practising sea trout
fisher and, it would seem, I do display many of the symptoms of the
religious devotee.
Many are the sacrifices I make for my "religion", which I put before all
other things. My faith is strong, unwavering and rarely reinforced by
experience. I make annual, and often arduous, pilgrimages to holy places
where it is rumoured that Salmo trutta trutta once appeared, and, when
asked, I am unable to produce evidence of his existence. On holy days, I
perform ancient rituals, often misunderstood by the non-believer,
involving walking in water in the dead of night, dressed in robes of
green, comforted by rod and staff and often accompanied by a priest. I
am daunted neither by drought nor famine, pestilence nor plague for I am
steadfast in my faith, resolute in my mission. In the long dark days
which we know as the “Close Season”, I devote much time to the reading
of the scriptures and create, for Him, wondrous offerings out of fur,
feather and tinsel. Wherever I can find those that will listen, I spread
the word, often at the risk of ridicule, derision and social exclusion.
At the time of the winter solstice, our small community of believers
gathers at the appointed place for our annual ceremonial meeting to hear
the word, admit new members, gather in the collection and talk of times
of plenty in years past and yet to come and, at the dawning of the New
Season, we pray for the Heavens to open and deliver unto us a bloody
great flood. |
