Our daughter is studying Art at GCSE and one of the modules requires building a landscape portfolio, initially with photographs. She decides that rivers might be a good subject. I concur and casually suggest she joins me on the river to get some practice.
I’m half expecting the teenage grimace followed by a perfectly plausible excuse, but she says yes. I’m surprised and pleased as we don’t get a lot of dad and daughter time.
It’s warm and a little overcast when we arrive and as its past lunchtime, the first thing we do is devour all our measly provisions.
She has borrowed a camera and is super enthusiastic. I’m not sure how much of this is the photography project and how much the idea of wet wading on a nice July afternoon. I ask her to stay reasonably close and stay down stream, but she seems as enthusiastic to take some shots of me as the landscape. Maybe I’m just in the way.
As we move slowly upstream, I fish a few of the faster pools and we chat non stop. She takes over 300 pictures from close ups of trees and insects, to fish, me and the river. She is deleting and editing as she goes and I’m pleased she’s having such a good time.
At her age, I would have a roll of 24 and be waiting a week for the packet to arrive from the chemist to see if there were any pictures without my thumb in them.
After a fun few hours we head home and she drops a few not so subtle hints that her own digital SLR might make all the difference. Smart girl.
Oh yes, I almost forget. I catch a few trout and grayling too.
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