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Down here in the valley it was a fine day. There were showers, but they skirted around us.
It was warm. Cat basking warm.
Up at the lake a squall was blowing through. The wind was strong and from the north. A cold wind.
I heard someone say the fishing was good until the weather came up. Until I got there.
Suffice it to say I tried a variety of approaches to lure the wily trout.
None worked. I found a sheltered nook and huddled for warmth. None was to be found.
If you had told me while I was freezing in the river in March that I would be freezing in the lake in May, I would have socked you in the jaw.
But you would have been right.
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