I am not good at fly fishing.
I often make a commotion in or around the water. I usually manage to get my line tangle in some sort of tree branches or underbrush. That or, while casting, I somehow tie my leader in impossible knots just before delivering the fly.

I'm new to the game. I'll learn.

But today, in between changing kinked tippets and dressing drowned flies, I did manage a few good casts. Just a few. And on one of those, a textbook, arrow-straight offering right to the edge of an underwater ledge, there was a flash, a splash, and then my caddis was gone. I felt a slight tug, saw the glorious golden shimmer of a trout on the take, and my heart fluttered. My emotions runneth over: 'Oh yeah,' I remember saying.

And then, just like that, he was gone. No tugging. No flashing. My caddis bobbed back to the top. I hurriedly picked up my fly and put it back in the same approximate spot. Nothing. Again, but a much sloppier cast this time. Predictably, nothing. One more pick-up, a loose back-cast, and my line was a mess, the fine tippet wrapped all around the fly line and leader butt and everything else.

I slumped back to shore, agonizing over what went wrong. Can't wait to go back and do it all again.