What a Beauty

It's bright and sunny at Yellowwood. For a change.

I will fish the dam at dark, so I start at the south end kicking past the spillway and the new "No Swimming" sign where people still swim.

I drift a fly behind me along the sunlit dam. All is quiet. I hope it wakes up with the coming of darkness.

I've brought something to fortify me along the way. The label inspires me.

There are still a few late bloomers among the shoreline weeds. They inspire me, too. I like to think I'm a late bloomer.

I kick down the west side then fish my way back toward the dam.

I pick up a few bluegill as I go.

Horse flies have been buzzing me on these late summer trips. They often hit the rod for some reason and then fly on. This one knocked himself silly and did a tailspin into the lake. Survival of the fittest.

The moon joins me.

I have on a stimulator tied to imitate the big white mayflies. I used bleached deer hair, and it was old. I get an enthusiastic take from a teen bass, and I think I might be in for some fun. But he near swallowed the fly whole and by the time I can extract it with the hemostats it's ruined. The bass leaves a trail of bleached deer hair as it swims away. Back to the drawing board.

I go to a backup battle tested muddler and catch some bluegill and a crappie along the dam. No bass.

But it's a beautiful summer night and the moon sheds its silver light on the righteous and unrighteous alike. I try a moon photo and forget to turn off the flash and it reveals the mist rising all over the lake.

There. That's better. What a beauty.