While kocil one Atanov, and somewhere far away, anglers in a head did not come that after three decades kochanie will be a real beach anglers. After all, what is fishing? It is an intimate fusion with nature, when in silence a surge of a powerful fish brings to orgasm itch of a mosquito is audible for ten meters, and drunk from the silence and losing vigilance moose comes to water, almost touching horns boat.
Of course, to Kvachina have someone to tickle the nerves of the angler. Silence, and suddenly heard a timid “Boo”. And Kwok, “ku-ku” doesn’t seem like an attack on your sex, but after 10 minutes, happy for the pauses in this “cuckoo”, more than “ku”, and in an hour you start to think, why not open hunting cuckoos.
It turns out that cuckoos we have so many that they will provide it “ku-ku” for the whole day. More precisely, there are places where they calling continuously. For the victims in the fight against fishing bites my nerves at this pace. “Ku-ku, pause, ku-ku”. The whole day is “cuckoo” will make the brain healthy is not a fishing person.
But the angler realizes that the cuckoo clock is a part of nature. She can be and she would be happy to bark or to have a grunt, but doomed to sing. Understands and suffers.
…In recent years, the squad soratnikov has increased hundreds of times, and the grunting of Kwok has become a real problem for anglers. I even admit that they would survive the cuckoos from their homes, and they will fly to the desert or even desert. No fishing for the last 2-3 years is complete without this musical accompaniment. And most importantly, what is posted is grunting not worse cuckoo “cuckoo”. Think our legendary he became a real Urfin Jus for anglers, because there is now no escape from Kvachina.
I am weak in ornithology, because do not know whether the cuckoo bird at night and that’s exactly cocatrice Japanese. And this is their new “Boo” sneaks into the sleeping bags, tents, and only the machine with the engine running, save us from this trouble.
Are you kidding me? Why?
I, for example, spinning. And just imagine what my coil would be creepy creak on each revolution, to creak like Kwok, per kilometre. Better yet, if I put in the boat vuvuzelas in South Africa at the world Cup.
Unless at least one angler will be happy with this kind of music? By the way, about music. It is different. And not only in style and execution. Similarly, and Kwok. Someone can play the piano or cochiti, and some don’t. So, twocat in the main those who don’t know.
But the main beach for the angler are still the monotony and rhythm. They are inevitable. No rescue arrhythmia from them will not wait. Although once failed to hear the cuckoo cuckoo two at a time. This is where complete removal of the brain. Imagine a short break you hear the third “ku” and intervals are torn, and re-imposed the rhythm remains.
Perhaps someone will say that I need to treat my nerves, but I’m sure half of the fishermen secretly dreams about a ban of catching on Kwok. Or to give them the area where they gathered together and precocial to each other. I would like this district for several kilometers walked and rode through.
Yesterday, when it started it was written, fell on the Kama. There is no quotation does not happen. In the evening the people gathered calm. Who giguet who bream hatches, and who seines checks. All in deeds and in silence. Beautiful! By the way, catfish on a trotline — a pounds 15 next fisherman pulled. At night in the tent silence, only the breeze touches the leaves and a couple of times the ravens marked.
And in the morning just for the water to come out as somewhere far away, “Kwok-Kwok”. Out. Only jigowatt began in front of the boat across to our shore flies. Thought competitors Sudakov overcome our want. It was worse. Cocatrice 30 metres got up and started to play. And the wind carries them quietly, because the sail in the water. 40 minutes went on the ears, but we hoped that soon subside far. No, again to the point fly again in 40 minutes. So where should we go? We are on the pit perch diguem.
Believe it or not, 4 times in the morning, they from us cochiti started. In the end, “from a fence and till a dinner” they give us ears sawed. Yes Quoc, as from a pipe. I otherwise have not heard. Before the last gals boasted that the sounder single som approach. In short: neither myself nor the people.
My partner, who is never on them was not paying attention and he could not resist.
— It is necessary, — speaks, — them in the room to lock and the Kwok to include half a day. Maybe then you’ll understand what people on the shore, which in the day came to enjoy the silence.
