For several weeks now, the rivers have been calling to me, not necessarily for
fishing, although that would be fine. Their song has been playing in my mind as
I picture the water as it runs fast in the early Spring. Each time I've tied a
fly, I picture it on the water just before the take, and this picture has helped
me improve a bit on tying. I can't help but replay one particular day last
Spring when I stood in slow water up past my waist and witnessed the most
beautiful mayfly hatch I'd ever seen as the daylight faded away. Bright yellow
bodies with white angel wings - like fairies from the story books when I was
young.

It was 50 deg. F. today and I had a few hours to kill in the mid-afternoon, so I
took the chance to just go for several walks along a few local rivers. Just
watching the water move past the rocks and other structure made me think of the
season to come and the peace it will bring me. Each time I passed a spot where a
previous catch was made, I'd find myself stopped and concentrating to catch a
glimpse of the fish, the sparkling red stripe and flash of the 'bow, or the
marvelous spots, color, and markings of the brook trout. These are my two
favorite fish by far.

Newly fallen structure holds hope for the coming year, and the old brought back
fond memories. The water sparkled, and the snow and ice on the banks made a
perfect frame for the scenes. I took no photos, 'though I had the camera. It
just didn't seem right somehow.

--
TL,
Tim
http://css.sbcma.com/timj