Etude in black and white
 

In my part of the world, Spring is the time when color returns from its
wintering grounds somewhere in the damp, vaporous south. Viewed from a
geographic or temporal distance the process, which occurs by fits and
starts, blends into a seamless progression, but here on the ground it
lurches disconcertingly.

Standing on the bank of Castle Rock creek, I've got Joel perfectly framed
standing on the opposite bank with a barn and several Holstein cows in the
background. The cattle, whose piebald coats seem (oddly, for creatures
created by and entirely dependent on their human owners) so well adapted as
camouflage in fields of black loam with patchy snow cover, look as out of
place and time as the audacious forsythias shrieking their presence in a
still drab landscape. Joel, by contrast, looks natural dressed in muted
earth-tones.

Earlier, parked on a bridge over the Blue river, we see an extravagant dark
mass of dead branches high in tree, like some sort of negative image beacon
against a bright thin overcast sky. It can only be an eagle's nest. Sure
enough, the bird's white head stands out defiantly even at a distance of two
hundred yards and even against the pale clouds. Binoculars reveal two
smaller fuzzy gray heads.

Earlier still, we catch apparently healthy but drab trout from Black Earth
creek within the limits of the eponymously named village. Later, as color
returns to their habitat, they'll feed on the burgeoning crustaceans and
pack on tint along with mass, but for now they have no more reason than
initiative or opportunity; this is still, but not for much longer, twilight
time.

En route from one watershed to another, we startle a group of three somberly
(and fittingly, given their profession) dressed turkey vultures who, as they
always do, have returned just in time to take care of the messes left by the
chance meetings between small to medium mammals, still groggy from the slow
winter time, and automobiles that know no seasonal moderation. The crimson
splashes that mark the vultures buffets fade ever more quickly as the season
progresses and the color is needed elsewhere.

A month from now yellow humpies and orange stimulators will fool the trout
with a promise of fat and succulence.....the sheer hubris of a royal
coachman streamer will excite the retribution of rainbows holding in a
riffle. Yesterday, the stark white on black of a pass lake, recalling the
motif of the season just past, worked well enough.

Wolfgang

On Sun, 1 May 2005 09:40:17 -0500, "Wolfgang"
wrote:

In my part of the world, Spring is the time when color returns from its
wintering grounds somewhere in the damp, vaporous south. Viewed from a
geographic or temporal distance the process, which occurs by fits and
starts, blends into a seamless progression, but here on the ground it
lurches disconcertingly.

Standing on the bank of Castle Rock creek, I've got Joel perfectly framed
standing on the opposite bank with a barn and several Holstein cows in the
background. The cattle, whose piebald coats seem (oddly, for creatures
created by and entirely dependent on their human owners) so well adapted as
camouflage in fields of black loam with patchy snow cover, look as out of
place and time as the audacious forsythias shrieking their presence in a
still drab landscape. Joel, by contrast, looks natural dressed in muted
earth-tones.

Earlier, parked on a bridge over the Blue river, we see an extravagant dark
mass of dead branches high in tree, like some sort of negative image beacon
against a bright thin overcast sky. It can only be an eagle's nest. Sure
enough, the bird's white head stands out defiantly even at a distance of two
hundred yards and even against the pale clouds. Binoculars reveal two
smaller fuzzy gray heads.

Earlier still, we catch apparently healthy but drab trout from Black Earth
creek within the limits of the eponymously named village. Later, as color
returns to their habitat, they'll feed on the burgeoning crustaceans and
pack on tint along with mass, but for now they have no more reason than
initiative or opportunity; this is still, but not for much longer, twilight
time.

En route from one watershed to another, we startle a group of three somberly
(and fittingly, given their profession) dressed turkey vultures who, as they
always do, have returned just in time to take care of the messes left by the
chance meetings between small to medium mammals, still groggy from the slow
winter time, and automobiles that know no seasonal moderation. The crimson
splashes that mark the vultures buffets fade ever more quickly as the season
progresses and the color is needed elsewhere.

A month from now yellow humpies and orange stimulators will fool the trout
with a promise of fat and succulence.....the sheer hubris of a royal
coachman streamer will excite the retribution of rainbows holding in a
riffle. Yesterday, the stark white on black of a pass lake, recalling the
motif of the season just past, worked well enough.

Wolfgang

It just finished sleeting to beat the band up here. Now the suns out.

Sounds like a good day on the water, Wolf.

g.c.

"George Cleveland" wrote in message
...
It just finished sleeting to beat the band up here. Now the suns out.

Yesterday and today dawned bright and clear (and unseasonably cold) here.
By the time the caffeine kicked in on both days the sun had removed
to......well, sunnier climes.

Sounds like a good day on the water, Wolf.

Any day in Joel's company is a good one. :)

Wolfgang

"Wolfgang" wrote in
In my part of the world, Spring is the time when color returns from its
wintering grounds somewhere in the damp, vaporous south. lurches
disconcertingly.

the audacious forsythias shrieking their presence in a
still drab landscape.
, we startle a group of three somberly
(and fittingly, given their profession) dressed turkey vultures splashes
that mark the vultures buffets fade ever more quickly as the season
progresses and the color is needed elsewhere.

Ij offers

damm wolfgang we had a pretty nice day here , but sorry to say a post Korean
education not only did not teach me to spell but certainly none of the
explanotory explanitions you expouse so well,

Wolfgang wrote:

En route from one watershed to another, we startle a group of three
somberly
(and fittingly, given their profession) dressed turkey vultures who,
as they
always do, have returned just in time to take care of the messes left
by the
chance meetings between small to medium mammals, still groggy from
the slow
winter time, and automobiles that know no seasonal moderation. The
crimson
splashes that mark the vultures buffets fade ever more quickly as the
season
progresses and the color is needed elsewhere.

A month from now yellow humpies and orange stimulators will fool the
trout
with a promise of fat and succulence.....the sheer hubris of a royal
coachman streamer will excite the retribution of rainbows holding in
a
riffle. Yesterday, the stark white on black of a pass lake,
recalling the
motif of the season just past, worked well enough.

Wolfgang

That's really good stuff. Thanks.

Steve

Wolfgang wrote:
snip
Yesterday, the stark white on black of a pass
lake, recalling the motif of the season just past, worked well enough.

Nice visuals, Wolfgang. Thanks.

I think it was George Adams who told me he'd had very good luck last
year out our way using the Pass Lake. I suppose I'll have to tie up a
few. . .
--
TL,
Tim
------------------------
http://css.sbcma.com/timj

On 5/1/05 5:15 PM, in article , "Wolfgang"
wrote:

Sounds like a good day on the water, Wolf.

Any day in Joel's company is a good one. :)

Hope that boy can join us in September!

Bill

"William Claspy" wrote in message
...
On 5/1/05 5:15 PM, in article , "Wolfgang"
wrote:

Sounds like a good day on the water, Wolf.

Any day in Joel's company is a good one. :)

Hope that boy can join us in September!

When I first broached the subject with him a few weeks ago, he said he
wouldn't be able to make it because of a conflict in his fishing schedule.
Consulting a calendar, I convinced him that he would indeed have time
available......he'd just be a couple of days late. We discussed it again on
Saturday. He is once again of the opinion that he can't do it.

We may have to kidnap him.

Wolfgang

On 5/2/05 9:16 AM, in article , "Wolfgang"
wrote:


"William Claspy" wrote in message
...
On 5/1/05 5:15 PM, in article , "Wolfgang"
wrote:

Sounds like a good day on the water, Wolf.

Any day in Joel's company is a good one. :)

Hope that boy can join us in September!

We may have to kidnap him.

Indeed!

I left a bit out of that last post- nice piece of prose on the TR, Wolfgang.
Funny how the addition of a just the slightest bit of color into a black and
white world can shock one. I was trudging down the path to a local pond
yesterday, on my way to see if the pan fish have woken up yet (despite
knowing they hadn't). Most of our woods are still bare of green, save the
skunk cabbage and early tree buds. Came around a corner and looked over
into the woods, spotting a wild rose with the first bright pink blossoms on
it. Stopped me dead in my tracks. The newly molted male goldfinches do the
same. Shocking color in a yet-drab background, pleasant surprises each.

Cheers!
Bill

"Tim J." wrote in message
...

I think it was George Adams who told me he'd had very good luck last
year out our way using the Pass Lake. I suppose I'll have to tie up a
few. . .

I always tie them in large numbers. I give most of them away to friends.
They never use them. When I fish with those friends and I run out, I borrow
them back. Everybody's happy. :)

Wolfgang