"Oh what a grey day!" (as a certain 70's TV presenter would often say), is probably the best description I can come up with for this week's almost blank session. Kevin Maddocks in his ground breaking book "Carp Fever" expressed the view that carp fishing is very unproductive in mist conditions and I'm inclined to agree with him. It just goes to show that even if our watercraft and bait placement is spot-on, our boilies top-notch and our hooks the sharpest on the planet, we still have no control over the weather and very little influence upon a carp's inclination to feed, or not to feed, as the case may be. And in my case, where all of the crucial aspects are flawed, you have a recipe for uncertainty. Anyway, when I vacated my bed at 5.00 am on Monday morning it was to a dark and dank day, with that nasty, invasive kind of drizzle that wets you through in no time, before you realize what's happened. Hence, when I finally arrived at Wetlands (only one delay this week, in the shape of a Labrador's poo mishap in the kitchen) I dropped into the Bird Hut peg with very little hesitation. This was as much to do with the fact that the hut provides a nice dry place to stash gear, whilst you get set up, as anything else. Having said that, I did see a couple of carp bosh out - one in an unusual spot, midway between the bank and the central channels and the other in the margin near the big Willow tree. Naturally I put a bait on each spot and awaited developments....and waited...and waited.... and waited! Not a sniff all day long. I did eventually grow weary of waiting and reverted to three of the more usual spots for late afternoon, namely LHS margin, LHS at 20 yds and RHS at 40 yds. My sense of despair was not lifted until darkness closed in around 7.50 pm, when a twitchy take on the LHS margin rod produced what felt like a bream, but turned out to be a 4 lb 6 oz Common. Not the largest carp in the world, but a blank saver, none the less. The only other occurrence to interrupt the night was another twitchy take on the LHS margin rod at bang on midnight. I lifted carefully into it only to find myself attached to a loose branch. Mmmm! I wonder what fiendish carp pinned that one on me? It's worth mentioning here, that the mist that descended upon the water late evening, gradually became more dense, and by midnight was as "thick as a bag" (a Staffordshire expression, I believe). I awoke to find the lake shrouded in 'many shades of grey', a scenario that lacked any kind of excitement, despite it's literary connotation. So that's it then, 1 caught and 1 lost. Things can only get better!