Now I know that spring is here. While sitting outside preparing to put my fly rod up for the day, one of these little yellow stoneflies whizzed by my ear. I caught him on a blade of grass, and he glady posed for several photos. After a few minutes wasting VFT (valuable fishing time), I crossed the road, scampered down the bank and began heaving flies every which way.
The little stones were hiding, I guess, so I caught a couple of rainbows with a pheasant tail nymph and kept on fishing downstream from the cabin.
The sun was fading quickly. Then the little yellow Sallies began to hatch in abundance, driving the trout crazy. The water began to boil with rising fish. I slashed at the water with my flyline - first here, then there, chasing rises before settling down to seriously catching fish.
Come Sunday, I'll be loaded with little yellow stones in the fly box. Around 8 o'clock, they'll begin popping like corn.
I used to sit on the banks watching other fishermen whip of a froth on the water's surface, fussing and cussing the fish they could not land. They usually left around 7:30 or so. Way too early. One must be patient.
At 8 it's great.
I live for this time of year.