Hey, nice Goldbead Zonker...

After all, there are standards and scruffy flies are a sign of a "couldn't care less" attitude on the riverbank.

Which will get you nowhere when it comes to landing the big fish. All you'll end up with is a tiddler.

That's why the Worcester Branch of the Fly Dressers Guild is holding a series of courses over the autumn and winter - from September to March - on the art of fly-tying.

Here beginners will be able to learn how to create the colourful lures that are flicked across limpid pools on a summer's evening to catch the rising trout.

Old hands will be able to swap stories and techniques and the air will be thick with descriptions of the best way to tie a Goldbead Zonker, a Damsel Nymph or a Detached Body Daddy.

"Some of our flies are works of art," said branch member Thomas Comerford. "In fact, in some ways their production has transcended the actual tempting of salmon and trout."

In other words, occasionally people take more care over the fly dressing than the fishing.

After all, when you've spent ages creating a thing of beauty and imagination, it almost seems a shame to fling it in the river.

Tom turns a few of his flies into brooches and very pretty they look too.

Join in and you will be part of history, for the origins of fly fishing are lost in the mists of time. Very thick mists too, because depending on who you want to believe, it goes back to the Macedonians, Ancient Egyptians, Chinese or Romans. Or alternatively, the whole lot.

However, it didn't really get a grip over here until Izaak Walton wrote The Compleat Angler in the 15th Century.

Things have come on a bit since then and now you're into carbon fibre rods, super strength lines and more varieties of fishing fly than you can shake a shoal of herring at.

Nevertheless, the basics of the art remain the same.

"Flies are used to catch game fish," explained Worcester branch chairman Roy McAdam.

"Salmon, trout, grayling. They are made to imitate the insects these fish would take, either flying above the water or running through it."

Materials used to create the flies are many and varied, including birds' feathers - particularly pheasant - rabbit fur, hair or any similar substance.

They're fixed to the chosen hook by winding round a thread and the whole process is called "dressing the hook".

Incidentally, some hooks are so small they can only be picked up using tweezers and you would probably need a microscope, let along a magnifying glass, to tie anything to them.

Eye-strain is the immediate danger, although the actual process itself, whatever the size of the hook, is accomplished using a nifty bit of kit that looks like a cross between a lathe and a carpet loom.

The result is a little furry, hairy thing that might not appear too convincing when stationary, but obviously does the trick on the end of a fishing line.

While many flies are the individual creations of their creators, some have acknowledged, albeit strange, names such as Damsel Nymph or Detached Body Daddy.

The best conditions for fly-fishing are overcast days, because fish's eyes are sensitive to sunlight and they tend to lie deeper, and slightly rippled water, so the line is not so obvious on the surface.

"One of the main aims of the Guild is to encourage people to make their own flies, rather than buy them," said Roy.

"Many of the speakers at our weekly meetings are expert fly dressers who pass on the benefit of their knowledge."

The meetings are held at Worcester Sixth Form College at 7.30pm on Tuesday evenings and the first is on September 16.

If you would like to join in or know more about this fascinating hobby, Roy is your man on 01886 832295.

He can give details of the full social programme and will also organise loan of basic fly-tying tools for beginners.

Of course you won't get it right first time, but practice should bring results.

For, as Roy observed: "If you haven't got a decent fly, you are never going to catch anything."

And I think we'll leave it there.