I started reading through a copy of Sidney Spencer's 'Game Fishing Tactics' at the weekend. Best bit so far by a mile is a fantastic piece of prose he opens the book with, which I thought I'd share:

Under the fern, arching from shore in the islet's quiet lee and far from the surge of open water, a small jewel shone bright among breaking wavelets on a beach of sand golden in sunshine. It hovered and it darted in vibrant quest for the motes of life that are the quarry of very little trout. There was in it, small but clear to see, all that exultant mastery of element that is in a plunging salmon in a thundering surf. There was the confident poise alert in the wall of the roller and the swift foray into the tumble of backwash. There too the gleam of grace in barred and speckled flanks - of power in the sweeping tail.
You forgot the little-finger length of it and the puny scale of its environment and you saw only an accomplished trout following the ways of his kind in a sun-dappled world he had made his own...