Reflections on the past season

First the weird.

I sometimes wonder if other fishermen see wacky things as often I see them. Or maybe somehow I cause nature to go berserk. 

Recently, I was in a very small, tight stream fishing very quietly up to a sharp turn, shouldered by steep cut rock and overhanging trees. As I got my first cast around the curve, I was startled by a loud, raspy squawk followed by a Great Blue Heron desperately flapping to gain altitude, but hampered by the steep banks and trees. To get more lift, he evacuated his excess weight in the form of a long white stream headed right for me. I dove out of the way, but still close enough to feel the breeze from his wing tips. Looking back at the stream, it now looked like a divided highway with a white centerline.

Then there was the time fishing a sparkle dun in some fast water when two 10-inch browns came fully out of the water after the fly and hit each other like a trouty version of a chest bump.

I’ve had dragonflies take my fly on the back cast and refuse to let go, buzzing in circles overhead. I’ve seen deer trip over a log and get up, looking around as if they were embarrassed to be so clumsy.

In the weird, but brutal category, I watched a water snake swimming across the gin clear water of a deep hole in the stream when a nice-sized brown shot up from the bottom and chomped it in the middle and fought with it down to the bottom and out of sight. (Note to self: it may be worth tying up a few snake patterns this winter)

And it’s not just the wildlife that gets a bit weird, it’s the landscape itself. Late in the season, there were some inexplicable surges of water on the creek. The gauge showed a just under a foot of water for an hour in the middle of the day with no clouds and no rain. But that’s not the weird part. As I was fishing, dodging the random corn stalks and clumps of weeds, I saw a very round, slightly hairy brown ball floating by. A fully intact coconut. Maybe from a hurricane up in Cross Plains?

Now the wonderful.

The wonderful shows up much more frequently. Just a day before the end of the season, the weather turned from sunny to sullen with a light drizzle. Apparently, perfect weather if you are a blue-wing olive. There were literal clouds of bugs emerging and a spinner fall at the same time. The view upstream was a hazy blur. But I could see that every fish in the stream was just gorging on the result of the perfect conditions. Like I mentioned, pretty wonderful.

Sometimes you just have to stop fishing and look around. I am continually amazed at the incredible places I get to see with a fly rod in hand. As I think back on this season, I would have to say most every day was wonderful, and especially so when it gets a bit weird. Although I can find those two attributes in the woods, on the trail, and just about anywhere if I look hard enough, a trout stream offers them up in a way I connect with most easily.

I’m already looking forward to what will happen next season.