Headed up a trout stream about eight last night
The place where I stopped was really quite a sight.
Just above a diversion dam by a quiet pool
Where the Cutthroat congregate in a little school.
The fish were swiftly rising to a little fly
Looking in my fly box pondering what to try
The gray one looked good but I tried the red
They nudged it with their noses oh the words I said.
Then I tried the green with a little white and brown
Floating on the surface a Cutthroat sucked it down
The rod begins to bend the it went tight
Old mighty cut and I were in for quite a fight.
Up and down the river out around the bend
I began to wonder how it all would end.
Never taking to the air he put up quite a fight
In that cold clear water what a pretty sight.
The sun ray in the water shine on silver gray
The mightly little Cut surely made the day.
Two feet from the bank he made his final run
The out upon the grass shinning in the sun.
Looking at the leader and that number fourteen fly
Knowing that it held and wondering why.
Back upon the water that number fourteen goes
Just above the ripple where another Cutthroat rose.
Now the sun is dropping down behind the trees
The beauty and the greatness weakens me at the knees
Moments just like this make me grateful for where I live
So I can enjoy these great wonders only God can give. ~ Brian Ahern
