I fished last Saturday, really. But, the fishing, as per usual for me, was secondary to all else that there was to see on the creek.
The day started overcast and turned into a diamond. My nemesis, the wind, took the day off. The fish, largely followed suit, but we managed to catch a few. The vaunted blizzard hatch of blue-winged olives didn't materialize, but I finally saw some. There were ducks, swans, eagles. The snow had left the creek. The mountains, brightly lit, were beyond glorious. I smiled so much that I thought my face would crack. It felt like spring.
It was a day to meet with an old friend. Perhaps out of respect I should change that to a friend of long standing. Buddies in college, with divergent lives, eventually drawn back together by a common interest in the outdoors. We get together, only once a year it seems. Play catch up, reminisce. We've shared days, camps, wild country. Alaska, the Sun River, Beartooth Mountains, this little spring creek. There have been a few fish, bear stories, wild rams. Frosty mornings, hailstorms, Spam. More than a few adventures. We came away from the day planning to do more.
I took a few photos, didn't get any real juicy ones. Sometimes I get lots of images, sometimes zip. Occasionally, I'll get one that's borderline ok. Like this one. Not a fishing image necessarily, but it speaks to me. It seems that the placid waters of the creek are an invitation.
Follow me, follow me…. to the mountains and beyond.
Looking at this photo, I see….. a watery stairway to heaven.