Many years ago I was fishing a tiny stream known as Bezza Brook,  it is situated just off Potters Lane in Samlesbury Lancashire it is a tributary of the River Ribble.  It was way after midnight and I was fishing for eels that had travelled upstream from the river, The night was very still and balmy and the only light I had was an old cycle lamp, this I used to lighthe up my rod tip to detect any bites that may come from the deep  hole I was fishing,  to my right was a packhorse bridge that carried a farm track which led to a public  house known as The five Barred gate, (  now known as the Swallow Inn.  ),I am no stranger to night fishing as I can understand   most sounds of the darkness and I don't fear the night,or do I ?,  I was at one with the world absorbing what the night and nature had to offer, my eye's were fixed on my rod tip when a movement to my left caught my eye,a less experienced person would have turned sharply to see what had caused the movement but I refrained from doing so, I turned my head slowly but deliberately to my left, the movement was still visible,and when my head was fully turned the source of the movement came into view, what I saw isn't easy to explain,but imagine if you will a plume or whisper of smoke resembling that one a human for ,it had the width and height of a human ,it was roughly 50th yr d's  of where I sat, it was moving down the bank ,it was a slow deliberate movement, it reached the bottom of the bank and up to the waters edge and across the stream ,but no ripples broke the surface? as it would have done  if you  or I had crossed, on reaching the bottom of the far bank it veered left all the time til disappearing from view towards Potters Lane,it was gone,I don't know how long I sat in sheer bewilderment, but I do know I made a hasty retreat homeward. even to this day I don't know what I saw that night,all I know is that I don't know as much about the night as I thought I did.

This is a true encounter, written as remembered, Circa 1940/50s