The Swordfish and the Parrot - a Rainbow's tale

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The Swordfish and the Parrot - a Rainbow's tale

Post by Southshore » Tue Sep 25, 2018 5:45 pm

My full name is Oncorhynchus mykiss senior but you can call me Bruce.
I'm a 5 year old Rainbow trout currently domiciled in Lake Taupo and as to how I got here is scary as everything including green and white grubs had a go at me on my way to the relative safety of the lake. The worst were the shags, those evil things with black feathers pretending to be a fish. Since then I have been dining royally on tasty smelt beetles snails and cicadas – who sez a trout like me can't enjoy a mixed menu. Of course this puts on the pounds as any serious diner will tell you and my weight shot up to 2.5kg according to my mate Trutta's scales.
The females in the lake had no attraction for me, that is until one day I noticed they had changed to a very attractive silver and grey and I felt the urge to do my duty as I did last year about the same time travelling into my birth river. The lower reaches have changed a lot since I came down as a youngster (shudder) the Brown trout kindergartens have gone and there's not a lot of reason to stay in the pools with silt coating the floor of my world. It was easy to graze on caddis and some fat creepers which are just like icecream to you forever spawning hoomins – where you get the energy to go fishing puzzles me and how do you breathe out of water?.
Apart from my familiar tucker there were the same boring pretenders trying to suck me in, like trout eggs, I mean, really? How many eggs to you think a fit conditioned trout like me needs to eat?. How would you like to be put on a diet of nothing but poached fried boiled scrambled coddled eggs for the rest of your life?. Right, but there will always be suckers among my peers , and now they have become smoke affected drylanders.
Some of the caddis pretenders are pretty realistic and nearly fooled me but most were too heavy and sluggish to fool anyone, and why are they always swimming with their heads brushing the bottom, are they too ashamed to look up?. Speaking of looking up, I've been looking up for my favourite snack, cicadas, but I'm a bit too early – perhaps on the way back downstream. On through the middle pools, hearing and feeling the panic of my fellow travellers as they succumb to fake insects and other tempting but deadly morsels, can't say I'm sorry though because that's more chance for me. Resting in a favourite upper pool for a while but it's not the same place I remember from last time, now shallow and exposed so I won't be hanging around here long.
Tomorrow I'll join the females, and my kids will start the dangerous journey back down to our home in the lake like I did. I'm not hungry any more and I'm going to look more like a Norwegian racing sardine by this time next month, and getting as much tucker in as I can on the way back - that's if I make it back and not get taken by a Percy or Galah, mind you, when we're so hungry everything that looks like food is tempting.
Slack lines, Bruce
Next time, Percy the Swordfish nymph and the Galah from 1986.

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