"After you have finished your true stories sometime, why don't you make up a story and the people to go with it? Only then will you understand and know who elude us."
Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
"Reflections" - Image by Tom Travis
I had a chance to go to a pond where I could take the canoe. This is an opportunity not to be missed so the canoe, anchors, paddle and fishing equipment went into the truck, and then I was off to the pond. I had to park about 20 yards from the pond so I got all the stuff into the canoe and hauled it near the pond. I always try to make a few casts to make sure there are no fish near the shore where the canoe will go in. The two rods had a black boa yarn fly and a palmer chenille fly on them.
Walking into the tavern the light went from a near suppressing bright to what seemed at first to be practically dark. After a long morning of fishing in the August sun the lights of the tavern were welcoming as was the sound of the large window air conditioner running behind the shuffleboard table. I followed my Dad, allowing him to take the seat of his choice, and then sat down to his right.
I recognize and fully agree that I am consumed by the art of fishing with an artificial fly and this passion extends into all facets of the sport. If I am not fishing, then I am constructing artificial flies or writing about my experiences on the water. When I am not involved in the above mentioned pursuits, I am reading and being a speed reader who is blessed with a very good memory, I can digest a lot of material.
Among salmon fly enthusiasts, toward the end of 19th century is commonly referred to as the "golden age" as that was when gaudy and colorful patterns with exotic feathers were introduced by George Mortimer Kelson, Major John Popkin Traherne, Sir Herbert Maxwell, Captain J. H. Hale and a few others.
The sun was playing peek-a-boo from behind the fluffy dark faced cumulus clouds creating a patch work effect of sun and shade. The creek bottoms were various shades of green and yellow as the turning of the seasons had arrived in the Rocky Mountains. The long languid days of summer had given way to the cool days of autumn and all of creation is poised to make the transition.
I had a chance to go out and fish a pond but it had rained the night before. Officially it was not much, but some places got poured on. It was way too wet to drive through the low places to the pond so a hike to the pond was in order.
A recent trend has become quite widespread in the field of biological science; restoration of "native" species. This has become quite prevalent in the fisheries departments of many states and it is rampant in many federal agencies; especially in the lands under the management of the Interior Department. By poison, electrofishing, gill netting, encouraging anglers to kill certain target species and recently by endeavoring to manipulate the fish's chromosomes they are attempting to eliminate in favor of "native" species.
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