When I fly fish I often pay attention only to the fish I am
catching or not catching. This can get old, narrow and lifeless.
However, some of my friends I fish with help remind me there
is Something else. This past week I fished with Cody, Steve and Karbo.
There are birds, bugs, sky, the different shades of light,
meadows and mountains. There are the storm
clouds that try to gather over the peaks giving us hope that the Spring rains
and snow will return.
There are the tiny midges trying to hatch in the cold and
the fish that sluggishly try to eat them. There was the large rainbow that rose to a
lone Blue Winged Olive Mayfly, but not again. There were the large rainbows and
browns that took our fly but broke free.
There were our words exchanged in between casts. Words of
longing and hope for a deeper richer life and for the upcoming fishing season. These
were words without complete rational understanding or expression, yet indicating “Something” else; Our friendships
sustained in the midst of the cold currents and the dry mountain winds.
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