The long wet winter wasn't conducive to sport - it never even got cold enough for my sort of wildfowling. However, the days are lengthening, and I've been tidying the garden and sowing a few seeds. I had an afternoon foraging molluscs on the estuary a couple of weeks ago, while Rico raced around and got in the way. He must have spiked his foot somehow because twenty-four hours later he was flat on the floor with a poisoned leg. Antibiotics soon stopped the infection and he is fine now - apart from a hole in his foot.
Yesterday was the last day of the coarse fishing season, and overlapped with the beginning of the trout season, so Luke, Duncan and myself headed over the mountain to catch a grayling. The Severn can be dour in the early Spring, and a cold East wind didn't help. I did manage one of each, both good fish, though the trout was still a bit on the lean side. Early Spring is a quiet time here, though I may pinch a day to chase Clywedog stockies. I'm threatening to have a couple of weeks driving / paddling round some wet places in Africa, looking for tigerfish and nembwe, but I've got the West Country Game Fair to deal with first.