The dog days of summer are here, characterised by lethargic afternoons, low rivers, torpid fish; but not as you might think named after vacant dog owners plunging their pooches into rivers, disrupting habitats, distributing insecticides. School holidays have arrived. You can tell by the appearance of more litter along the roadsides as the campers turn up at their campsites in compact battle tanks and disgorge the kids to play at the waterside. Once they would have explored with nets and marvelled at the wildlife a river holds. Now they are more likely to throw stones at trees and bang rocks together. One bunch on my local river was armed with a spade and saw, which they used to take lumps out of the bank and sever exposed tree roots. Perhaps these are the kind of brats who grow into the kidults that build rock barrages across rivers even as the old weirs are removed to restore flow. Better they stick to their screens? Harrowing the seedless soils of their future minds.
Amateur astronomers will know that the term ‘dog days’ originates in the ancient world, when Sirius, the Dog Star, which rises with the sun in mid-summer, was believed to be the source of the heat in July and August. The origin of our current record-breaking summers are rather more down to earth — us. Much the same as the wildfires set by arsonists and arseholes with disposable barbecues and disposable common sense.
Many fly fisheries are closed now. This is a fairly recent phenomenon on rivers, but has occurred often in past years on stocked trout lakes because the farmed fish are considered sensitive to high temperatures. It’s true that studies show trout have cardiac problems once the water temperature climbs much above 20 degrees Celcius. How far this affects wild trout I don’t know but it pays to be careful with our natural fisheries, especially in these days of the guided, catch-as-many-as-you-can outlook. Projections of river temperatures are suggesting the demise of trout will happen in as little as forty years, the south of England being the first to see them go. Maybe the future of fishing lies in carp ponds. Not a happy thought. The ‘proguides’ in their minds’ eye are already consoling themselves with thoughts of Iceland and Patagonia, forgetting that climate change will hit those countries too.
Autumn is always a good season. Now it will come as an even more blessed relief from the torrid weather anglers have endured this summer. September brings a great sense of cooling and relief and, we hope, more rain. Swallows perform their last swoops of the season before crossing the Channel low over the waves. In seaside resorts the overweight sitting in their air-conditioned trucks stuffing their faces with pie and chips will be replaced by elderly couples wandering peacefully along the prom.
It’s been a bad summer for weather so far but it’s been a good one for football fans, which are not necessarily England fans. Spain has won the World Cup as I hoped and expected, by defeating a particularly nasty version of Argentina, a national side with a long reputation for petulance despite having one magnificent player in recent years. The 2026 Spanish side has emulated and equalled the great team of 2010. But there was consolation for England in the goal jamboree of the third-place playoff, albeit with a French side sipping cocktails in deckchairs for the first half. If the stakes had been higher we’d never have seen ten goals. And it’s also consolation that we won’t be hearing this for some time:
Iss cummin ome, Iss cummin ome, Fuh baws cummin ome
The Secret Angler 