THE STRANGER
Little white fluffy cumulus clouds were playing peek-a-boo with the early spring sunshine and I was all alone on a beautiful spring creek with a steady hatch of small dark Baetis mayflies bring several trout to the surface. Like tiny sail boats with dark sails the small Baetis would hatch in a flurry as the sun slipped behind a cloud and quickly disappear when the clouds parted. I worked my way slowly along the edge of a long flat picking up several smaller trout that seemed all too willing to eat my fly. At the head of the flat a large cottonwood log was lodged along the far bank and a collection of limbs and flotsam had collected along the upstream end providing excellent cover. The past summer a large brown trout had taken up residence in that place but I had not been able to induce him to take any of my flies. Perhaps, I thought, he might still be there this year.
What a great read! Thanks for taking me along on the journey of life.
Dick
I wish I could fish there. Good luck on enticing that large brown.
Great story Neil. It reminds me of the final scenes from “A River Runs Through It.” I’m haunted by waters.
You just gotta love stories like that, you can see it in your mind. Thanks for the great read, John.