The air was cool in the pre-dawn July morning as I stepped to water's edge, and the soles of my waders settled into the gravel. I was in a tee-shirt, but realized that, in short order, the sun would rise and I would go from chilly-to-sweating in short-order. Alone on the stream with nothing to remind me of people, but for the occasional sound of a passing car on the nearby country road. It's my favorite time on the water, when all that is heard is the gurgling of water passing over rock, and the morning birds hopping through the streamside vegetation.