Fishing Report: Quiet and Peaceful

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Just a great evening on the lake. It started windy, so I began by trolling a wooly bugger, but I hadn't gone twenty feet when I decided to cast it into the bank and strip it back. I had covered the whole back curve of the southern end of the lake when I saw a few fish--flippers--working up ahead. So I tied on a Stimulator and went to work on them. They weren't buying.

Still, I worked on up the west bank with the Stimulator until I found some more little fish jumping out of the weeds right up along this bank.

They also refused the Stimulator, so I tried a Cricket. Why, you ask? Why not? It's black; it's worked in the past. It worked today.
I lost another one a little bigger than that one in the weeds, then this little tiny trout nailed the cricket. Little fish, big spirit.
Then I lost another one. By then there weren't any more risers along that stretch, so I started to work back down the bank.
There weren't any fish rising, it was beautiful and peaceful, and I got distracted. I cast in--this was right up against the bank--then glanced away for just a second. When I looked back the cricket was gone and there was one tiny little ring expanding from where it had been. I set, I felt the fish for a heartbeat--and it was gone.

I think that was the fish of the day. The little guys give themselves away with splashy takes. This guy was just going to sip it and be on his way. I paid more attention after that.

Sometimes I hear rocks clattering down the scree slopes. Today I heard a clatter and then a roar. It was a bona fide slide, and raised a pretty good plume of dust. Always something happening.
The wind died down and everything got calm. I took a break and then fished a nymph and indicator while waiting for something to happen.

A few fish began rising, and then just like that tapered off. I had a chance at a fish that came up nearby, and cast a little Adams right on his head. He took and then promptly came off. Maybe I'm not setting with authority. I'm pretty sure he was a little one.
Things stayed quiet as the sun set and the moon rose higher.
Then the wind picked up again, one of this lake's famous night winds. I trolled a big circle in the moonlight with a big black wooly bugger. I wouldn't have minded if some twenty-two incher had cruised by and slammed the fly. But it didn't happen. The fish were quiet and peaceful.
And so was I.