“Best of all he loved the fall
the fall with the tawny and grey
the leaves yellow on the cottonwoods
leaves floating on the trout streams
and above the hills
the high blue windless skies"
by Ernest Hemingway
I've waited a long time to have the time to enjoy my favorite season. There's never been enough time. Too many competing interests. A longbow and rifle required regular mountain walks. They now gather dust. Work, well what can be said. It demanded a lot of time and effort too. Well, I've retired my counting tray and spatula and shut off the part of my brain that had been devoted to work. My mind and body can now be re-purposed. A fly rod beckons. Make that several. And fish. There are too many uncaught trout. If they're lucky, they'll stay that way. I plan to have a little say in that matter though.
So, two weeks into this next life what have I to show? Well, gas. You know, for the car. There's been a half dozen trips to the creek. Most days have been spent piddling around waiting for the olives to show. They do like to make a guy wait.
Some days have been better than others. An hour, maybe two of rising fish. A few decent fish caught, a few more smaller ones. None have come easily.
I spent three days trying to catch one fish. We parted ways the first two when he jumped and the hook pulled. Same brown, same spot, about the same time.
Ok, so I'm not a quick study. Neither was the fish.
I got him.
So here's to this best of seasons.
To tough fish. Aging anglers. Persistence.
Blue skies. Sunrises and sunsets. Spectacular mountain moonrises.
Most of all...to days that leave one satisfied.
Many more to us all!