Chap­ter VII – The Com­pleat Angler intro­duces a fas­ci­nat­ing explo­ration of the salmon, a fish revered not only for its strength but for the remark­able pat­terns it fol­lows through life. Known to inhab­it rivers far enough from the sea to avoid the influ­ence of salt, the salmon embod­ies an incred­i­ble sense of tim­ing and place. Each year, as sum­mer matures into late August, these fish instinc­tive­ly begin their jour­ney upstream. With care­ful pre­ci­sion, female salmon cre­ate small nests in grav­el beds, where they lay and cov­er their eggs before depart­ing. Left behind, these eggs rest through the win­ter months until spring warmth awak­ens them into life. Wal­ton por­trays this act not as mere instinct, but as part of nature’s larg­er, awe-inspir­ing rhythm.

Once spawn­ing is com­plete, the salmon’s cycle takes anoth­er dra­mat­ic turn as they head back toward the sea. Yet for those unable to return, due to dams or mis­di­rec­tion, their fate is grim—sickness takes hold, and death fol­lows soon after. Wal­ton treats this return jour­ney with rev­er­ence, admir­ing their tenac­i­ty to over­come every bar­ri­er. Sto­ries abound of salmon leap­ing extra­or­di­nary heights to scale weirs and water­falls, dri­ven by a deep, unseen force. He likens this jour­ney to that of noble trav­el­ers return­ing to their ances­tral homes. This ele­gant metaphor con­nects the salmon’s instinct to some­thing both majes­tic and deeply human.

Fur­ther reflec­tions reveal Walton’s fas­ci­na­tion with the salmon’s mem­o­ry and nav­i­ga­tion. He sug­gests these crea­tures may return to the exact streams where they were born, guid­ed by an inter­nal com­pass not unlike that of pigeons or migra­to­ry birds. Sup­port­ing this idea are anec­dotes of marked salmon return­ing after a sea­son, larg­er and more resilient. Their growth, accel­er­at­ed by the abun­dance of ocean life, is pre­sent­ed as both mirac­u­lous and mea­sur­able. This con­nec­tion between nat­ur­al obser­va­tion and spec­u­la­tive the­o­ry cap­tures the won­der that fish­ing stirs in patient anglers. Such insight goes beyond utility—it cul­ti­vates respect for crea­tures often pur­sued only for sport.

As the top­ic turns to tech­nique, Wal­ton offers prac­ti­cal wis­dom laced with curios­i­ty. Worms remain the favored bait, but he exper­i­ments with adding fra­grances or oils, believ­ing the scent may fur­ther entice the salmon. He notes this approach is not yet proven but shows promise based on ear­ly tri­als. There’s a charm in his open­ness to dis­cov­ery, urg­ing fel­low anglers to remain stu­dents of nature rather than mas­ters of it. These sub­tle refine­ments in bait prepa­ra­tion reflect the bal­ance of art and sci­ence in angling. Suc­cess is nev­er guar­an­teed, and part of the joy is found in the attempt.

Salmon fish­ing, unlike oth­er pur­suits, calls for a blend of patience, tim­ing, and respect for the fish’s strength. Wal­ton shares how a sea­soned angler learns to read the river—its depth, cur­rent, and mood—before choos­ing a place to cast. Qui­etude becomes a neces­si­ty, not just a virtue. Every motion, every rip­ple in the water mat­ters when pur­su­ing a fish known for its agili­ty and sus­pi­cion. This aware­ness ties into Walton’s broad­er phi­los­o­phy of angling as a med­i­ta­tive act. Beyond mere cap­ture, it’s about har­mo­ny with the world beneath the sur­face.

Clos­ing the chap­ter, Wal­ton returns to a more reflec­tive tone. He speaks of the salmon not just as a fish but as a symbol—of renew­al, of jour­ney, of nature’s unspo­ken laws. The respect he holds is unmis­tak­able. In admir­ing its strength, its cycles, and even its vul­ner­a­bil­i­ties, he invites read­ers to look beyond the line and hook. The act of fish­ing, when paired with rev­er­ence and care, becomes a form of com­mu­nion with the wild. For Wal­ton, the riv­er is a place of learn­ing, and the salmon its most hon­or­able teacher.

Through this chap­ter, the salmon is ele­vat­ed from a mere tar­get to a crea­ture wor­thy of admi­ra­tion and won­der. The read­er walks away not only informed but inspired, ready to engage with the nat­ur­al world in a more thought­ful, appre­cia­tive man­ner. Walton’s mes­sage is clear: angling is not only about skill—it’s about deep­en­ing our con­nec­tion to the rhythms of life that swim qui­et­ly beneath the sur­face.