The Mountains need snow. We need the water, and of course, so do the fish.
However, besides these basic needs, I think we also need the
snow to block our way to the river. The
banks need healing along with the fish. We have left our scars upon the land
and the fish themselves.
Can I help it that I secretly wish for storms so heavy with
snow that they deny us access to the river. Perhaps heavy snow is the only way
to keep us out. Let the river, the fish and the land heal.
Am I being too dramatic? Who has not seen in years past when
sections of river were temporarily closed to fishing because of high water or
threat of fire, how wonderful the fishing was when it reopened?
With no
closures in sight, I can only hope for heavy snow. I hope the snow falls and
denies us access for a day or two. Or maybe a week. Any break might help heal the scars.
Who has not seen the scars on the fish; the broken off flies
in their mouths, and their tired response when hooked? Have we not seen every
day and all day long the relentless pounding of our favorite holes?
How many times can a fish be hooked, its feeding cycles
interrupted, and still thrive (or even survive?).
I doubt the D.O.W.,
park service or the national forest agencies would ever propose rest
periods for the fish by periodically closing sections of river. I doubt fly
shops could collaborate and agree to limit guiding. Could the fly fishing community ever agree to
fish less?
How could I, as a lover of fly-fishing, during a 60 degree winter
day, deny myself the urge to fish? Or, how could I not cast to a 30 inch fish
that has moved up from a lake during the fall and Spring migrations?
Therefore, come heavy snow and cover the river, the trails,
and the roads. Deny me access if only for a day.
Heal the damage I have done. Heal Eden.
Heal my own heart.
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