It does not happen that often. Certainly, not often enough.
I caught that pretty brook trout with a little red quill dry - now get this - on my first cast from under a bridge. I could not even see the fly when it landed because some rhododendron was covering the left side of the tiny pool. I heard a faint splash, set the hook and had him. Yeehaw!
After that wonderful and astonishing exprience, I stopped on the way home to check out the blueberry patch we had mauled a couple of years ago for cobbler ingredients. Alas, I was either late or early (Mrs. Koontz says, "Early.") I will return this weekend.
The forecast for fishing this Sunday and Monday is stinking. But I will not remain indoors. If I cannot get a trout to hit a fly, I guess I will spend most of the day searching for the elusive blueberry or napping by a musical creek. It's not always about the fishing.
Sounds like I am having too much fun.
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