Saturday, August 1, 2015

"Meadowlarks and Hawks" by Joseph Stroud



A farm road
in the San Joaquin
heading into the red dirt
of the gold country
miles and miles
of fencerows
with meadowlarks
singing on the wires
the song of one
entering the song
of another
all down the road
window open
I hear song
trailing
into song
the road continuing
as far as I can see
and every mile or so
on top
of a telephone pole
sits
a red-tailed hawk
shoulders hunched
turning his slow
iron gaze
over all he claims
of the singing world



"Meadowlarks and Hawks" by Joseph Stroud from Of This World. © Copper Canyon Press, 2009.

Montana Fly Fishing Magazine, Summer 2015

MTFFM-Cover-Summer-2015-for-Dry-Fly-Media

Great time to be in Montana. Go HERE.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Henry's Fork Report: Prelude

I'm back.  We had our usual adventure at the Henry's Fork. More than ever, circumstances required that we call up the old pioneer spirit of persistence in the face of adversity.

We had one day on the Henry's at our favorite location. The fishing was slow. But there's always tomorrow, right?


Wrong. The word was out: tomorrow there would be a major release from the Island Park dam that would last for three days, striking at the heart of our stay, and rendering the river a poor bet at best.


Resiliency and a change of plans was called for. We headed for the Tetons and the river that bears their name. Not a bad place to wet a line and lose the trout of a lifetime.


And before all was said and done we had a shot or two at some nice fish back at the rejuvenated Henry's--and we managed to hit the mark more than once.


Good to be home. Much reminiscing to follow imminently.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

All Packed Up

All packed up and ready to go. Leaving first thing in the morning for a few days at the Henry's Fork. I'll let you know how things go.

"The Second Music" by Annie Lighthart



Now I understand that there are two melodies playing,
one below the other, one easier to hear, the other

lower, steady, perhaps more faithful for being less heard
yet always present.

When all other things seem lively and real,
this one fades. Yet the notes of it

touch as gently as fingertips, as the sound
of the names laid over each child at birth.

I want to stay in that music without striving or cover.
If the truth of our lives is what it is playing,

the telling is so soft
that this mortal time, this irrevocable change,

becomes beautiful. I stop and stop again
to hear the second music.

I hear the children in the yard, a train, then birds.
All this is in it and will be gone. I set my ear to it as I would to a heart.



"The Second Music" by Annie Lighthart from Iron String © Airlie Press, 2015. 

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

River Report: Fishable

Looks like my backyard river is finally fishable again.



I'll get right to it as soon as I can.

Trout Lake Report: Fishing Fun At Last

You go to take a look-see on a hot afternoon. Over two weeks since you've been here.


Water's down.


Weeds are up.


You kick over to the inlet side.


There's life here. Fish are leaping in and out of the weeds. They like your muddler--if you strip it hard.


Fishing fun at last.


It feels browny, but you can't raise one.


You kick back over to the truck side. Check out the shoreline down to the far north end.


Nothing. Nothing to be seen or heard on the inlet side now, either.


You hang out in a heavy hatch of callibaetis. Lay out a callibaetis dry in case things turn on.


But the show's over.


For now.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

"Neither Out Far Nor In Deep" by Robert Frost



The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day.

As long as it takes to pass
A ship keeps raising its hull;
The wetter ground like glass
Reflects a standing gull.

The land may vary more;
But wherever the truth may be-
The water comes ashore,
And the people look at the sea.

They cannot look out far.
They cannot look in deep.
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep?



"Neither Out Far Nor In Deep" by Robert Frost from Complete Poems of Robert Frost. © Henry Holt and Company, 1969. 

Hello, Pluto

Image by NASA from the New Horizon spacecraft, taken on July 14, 2015,
from 7,750 miles above the surface of Pluto. From Earthsky.

Very cool. Never thought I would know what Pluto really looked like.

Monday, July 13, 2015

July Update

July has been a blur. Haven't been fishing yet.

Caught a flight to Indiana.


Had some catching up to do with the newest grandchild. He was a newborn the last time I saw him.


Then there were the rest of the Indiana grandkids. We had a blast.


Took nature girl Iris to a state park.


Hiked in to Wolf Cave. She wanted to know exactly why it was called Wolf Cave before she decided whether to go in. She did finally go in--a little way--becoming the first ever of her family to enter Wolf Cave. Way to go, girl.


Had a great Fourth of July with the whole Indiana family.


Flew home with Venus and Jupiter pointing the way West.


While I was gone old One Eye got hit on the highway. So long, boy. You were a good cat.


Caught up with the Washington grandkid.


Caught up on some work, too.

Then dealt with the catastrophic failure of our water system. Still don't have water, and are waiting for expensive repairs.

Then hit the road for the coast and another soccer tournament.


Now I've got what looks like a window of opportunity to get some fishing in this week before I leave for another trip back east this weekend.

But this trip back east is to the Henry's Fork for a week on the water with Brother John. Got some flies to tie, and gear to pack before I'm ready.


But then again, I'm so ready....