One Good Day Deserves Another
Saturday, we fished. A once a year reunion. A couple of guys that have become friends in recent years. And one, well, we go back decades. It was a good day, too nice for fishing. No, make that too nice for catching. Everyone got a few. But, the fish like to sulk on the brighter days. At least that's our excuse. In our defense, no day is too nice for fishing. I'll share a few photos.
Today, surprise, it's snowing. Ever so lightly. A gray day seems so strange after the succession of sun. Yesterday I went to the creek. The forecast was for sunshine and forties. I couldn't pass it up. It's January after all. One must get out and take advantage of these windows into winter.
And so I went. It was ridiculously nice. Bright, perfectly clear. No wind. I think that it hit fifty degrees. This would have been a great day were it the month of March.
Got a few fish, rolled a couple of real nice ones that I couldn't hold. No matter, I saw them. They tipped their fins, jumped and tossed the fly, and turned and swam back to carry on their day. I later went back and tried again for a fish that I'd tickled. He, or she, ignored my repeated offerings. Maybe they do remember, longer than we give them credit.
I had hoped to hang in and fish through the best part of the day, late afternoon. Protestations from my back were not relieved by lying on a picnic table. So regrettably, I packed it in. But, sorry wasn't part of the vocabulary for the day. The mountain views were killer.