Clear Creek has been running through my mind, so I decided to go back and see how she was doing. I tied up a new fly for the occasion. The day was one of those last golden days of summer, and the stream glowed with promise.
I started fishing up by the bridge to avoid two other fishermen hard at work down at the big pool. They came upstream as I was finishing up, so I headed downstream to the rapids.
And there, once again, a fly I had tied that day ended up in the jaw of a fish. That small miracle reinforces my fragile belief that some things in this world still make sense.
No comments:
Post a Comment