You’ve had those days. Can’t seem to get it going & all the portents cry stay home. A front’s blown through & it’s overcast, windy and nippy. But you coffee-up, pull it together & go anyway. Hiking in there’s nary a sign of carp. You put a hair-rig out though, & just for laughs, also cast a fly, fingers crossed. And then it happens... nothing. For hours, nothing. Finally you go home. What? What’d you think??