I know some of you living in the Midwest and East are having Summer now. Good on you. We're still having Spring. That means, so far, a few beautiful days in the sixties, and lots of cool, wet days. This past week we began with a snow storm and then had several days of drenching rain interspersed with a couple of brilliantly clear nights. (We're having another one of those tonight. I went out earlier and saw a satellite pass over Mars.)
Saturday was one of the cool, wet days. It was 37 degrees by the town temperature sign when the soccer game began, and it was a chilly affair. Our team battled to a 3-3 tie. Isaiah didn't play.
The whole time I was thinking about the river. By the time I got there the temperature had risen a little and the misty rain had quit.
I had been picturing a long afternoon of pulling fish out of crystal clear water, but I'm not clueless. I was also wondering, somewhere in the back of my mind, whether all the rain had had any effect on the river.
It had come up just slightly, but it was very murky. There's a saying: "If you wade in and can't see your feet, go home." Well, like the hatching midges, I had business to attend to. I stayed.
I worked the Bridge Run over pretty thoroughly. I did change my play list and went with the four brightest flies I had on me: pink, hot pink, holographic pink, and white.
This was the last one I tied on. But it didn't work, either. I hadn't gone home, but the fish apparently had. ("If you swim out and can't see your tail....")
Still, I was outside, and I was fishing. The best thing of all, though, is that rising, murky water is a Spring problem, not a Winter one. And it will be gone in a lot less time than the ice was. I'm happy with that.