Nothing fuels the fires of nostalgic fly-fishermen quite like a fishing log.
There are personal logs, and there are those old books that the farmer keeps for his water. The one for which he calls you into the light of his kitchen, to fill-in before you depart.
They may be leather bound, or maybe just a simple book from the stationer in town, but either way the book will be tatty from age and use. And if it is not yet a little yellowed , just give it time.
For as many years as I have fished, I have carried a camera when I fish.
At first, and being more than 30 years ago now, it was one of those entry level film cameras that was so rickety in its construction, that it threatened to let light in at any moment.
It took awful pictures. Or perhaps more correctly, I took awful pictures, but it worked. I still have those awful pictures, and they are great, if you know what I mean.