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Some people like to sit on their porch and enjoy the sunset. I like to enjoy sitting in the sunset.
I did fish as the day moved to its beautiful conclusion. I started in late afternoon when the sun was still high and hot. Fish were jumping at the north end over tall weeds that have almost reached the surface. Many were small, but some were decent. You could tell as they jumped two feet out of the water and flashed their colors in the sun.
I failed to find the magic fly, though I ran the gamut of flies and techniques, including everything that has worked in the recent past. I imagine some people would quit this pastime exactly because of that fact of fly fishing life. I find it makes me admire the wily trouts for keeping me off balance and humble. I respect them as worthy adversaries.
I did manage to hook one of the troutkins but he slipped the hook at the net, and that was the last fish that came that close. I can't even remember what he took--something on the surface.
I wandered over toward the big bay to see if any Drakes were hatching, but things shut down before I got there.
Later, in the near dark, I would play with some trout over in a cottonwood choked depression along the bank. I had a nymph on under an indicator by then, and they were hitting it but not hooking up. I was raising the rod to bring the line up to check the fly when one of them slammed it right at the float tube. I had him, but he broke off the 6X tippet and took the fly.
Meanwhile the glorious evening was running its course. Sometimes that's more than enough reward.