While casually strolling around the verdant shores of our favourite place last week, we followed the gravel path across the end on Marshal’s Lake, close to where the old oak tree came down in the recent high winds, and crossed the bridge.
The footbridge is a fairly modern timber structure, and we usually spot various fish cavorting around in the lake, so much so that the three largest subjects all have names now - Finley, Finwe, and Fingle.
The first photo shows just Finwe and Fingle, with all their resplendent colours, reaching up to take the morsel of bread from Mrs. S, who had prepared a whole bag for the very purpose. They often grunt with delight and slurp a fair bit, especially if there is a bit of garlic butter around!
The second picture is of Finley, who is a right show-off, and can do circles at the drop of a hat! He continually splashes the water with his huge tail, reputedly the biggest thrasher in the locality, and the apple of every angler’s eye! He is about three feet long, and has huge metallic spines arrayed along his back, culminating in a glittering razor sharp dorsal fin about ten inches high. He has a Doctorate in applied ballistics.
This third shot shows Fingle escaping the clutches of Finwe, and if you look closely, you can make out the irridescent green and purple colours on his back! He really is a splendid fish, about 72” long, and with barbs the size of industrial files! He can swim the length of the lake in about seven seconds, which equates to a measured mile at about 77 mph, and the bow wave he creates has been known to sink a small craft containing several Norwegian children with their interpreter. He has also caused an old lady to have a fainting fit right where we were standing! There is a plaque to commemorate the bravery of her colleague, a certain Gilbert Mollusc, who administered first aid in the form of a back-hander and a short-arm kidney punch, which soon stopped the bloody racket when she’d woken up…
The next shot is a wanton display of arrogant fish sexuality. Fingle has always had designs on Finwe, who, at seven feet long, can handle most advances with aplomb. Fingle, weighing in at seventeen stone, once appeared as a centerfold in ‘Male Scale’, a local anglers’ fantasy compendium, as the ugliest and dirtiest fighter in Kent! Finwe has a cousin who works in the aquarium in Ann Summers, and knows a thing or two about pestering fish! She’s just about to give him both barrels of a 12-Bore Over & Under Purdey Game Gun, concealed under her scrackle fin, (itself a formidable addition to her armoury, especially when she’s been on the Glenbastard 25 year old)! She has loaded the gun and is just about to aim at his grundular orifice!
This shot is of Finley again, in the process of donning the uniform of a German Naval Commander after a hard night in the fillet pots of Tunbridge Wells, and plucking up a pair of Minox HG 8x56 BR binoculars from his cabin trunk to scan the lake. He is the senior officer at the atomic submarine pens at the northern end of the lake, and has a reputation in the eyes of the stronger females in the district, namely ‘Titanic’ Turbotess, and ‘Great Eastern’ Skatess. Both of these – er – ladies are of easy virtue, and well known to anyone blessed with a torpedo that big! He also drives an early Mercedes, once owned by the German Chancellor! If you look closely, you can just see the duelling scars near his bulbulent nolstrellides!
The final picture shows the three fish, devouring the remains of a Friesian cow, (Mildred), which fell in yesterday, after an altercation with the local hooligan ‘Carp’ gang! They actually crossed three main roads and a cornfield (by tractor of course), to reach the unfortunate animal, but Finwe is a dab hand at the skillet, and serves up most bovine dishes with a rich gravy and three sorts of vegetables in season! She often shops at Sainsbury’s for delicacies to help Fingle in his aspirations to own a BMW 7 series and have an Iphone for each barb! He also wants to appear on the X Factor, but needs more practice some say! Finley has just opened an account at Coutts, and has three Isas.
You can tell from this that we don't stay long on the bridge, it tends to wobble when the last of the crumbs are eaten, and we continue on our stroll with JRT running in circles, happily yapping at anyone who will listen.
Life can be perfect in its own way can't it!