THE BOYS OF FALL


The mid-October sky was gun metal gray with scudding dark clouds hiding the surrounding mountain peaks already white with the first snows of the approaching winter. The gusting winds sent leaves cascading from the cottonwoods along the river bottoms; like flocks of colorful birds driven before the cold blast of winter. In the tail-out flats of the Yellowstone River brown trout were digging redds preparing to launch a new generation and eager rainbows were lurking nearby hoping to snag a few eggs