You need to fish, so you go close by again.
You get to Early Lake and an osprey call welcomes you. He's over on the snag with a crow. There are more crows cawing in the trees.
They don't like ospreys.
You kick over to see how close you can get. The crows bail early. The osprey waits until you're almost under him.
You like ospreys.
The afternoon is warm and breezy. You go under with a bead head and a little woolly bugger and catch fish. They're small and the worse for wear, but they're trout, and they fight you.
An eagle sails in at 11 o'clock high.
You fish, then pull in on the far side for a break. You see spring is winning.
As you launch, the red-necked grebes come by. Two weeks ago there was one, lost and forlorn. You're happy to see that the mate has arrived.
You're also happy to see a pair of loons. They stay close to each other and far away from you. You fish while they fish, and catch some more.
The eagle keeps an eye on the osprey from above.
You tie on a new muddler. It looks like it could be a topwater evening. You think of naming the fly "Bad Haircut."
The breeze swirls and switches. You get bump after bump on the muddler, and finally a bluegill gets his mouth around it.
You can't keep the bluegills off it, and you can't find a trout with it. The breeze stiffens into a wind and settles in the north.
The temperature drops. You have a jacket on, but you're getting cold. You see the eagle has been joined by another, and both eagles are pursuing the osprey.
The eagles suddenly break away, and one eagle now swoops at the other. You're too far away to see, but you guess they've stolen the osprey's supper.
The osprey is undaunted.
Clouds of swallows have come in with the wind. You watch and marvel. You fish, and fish some more, but the wind isn't letting up, you aren't raising any trout, it isn't going to get any warmer, and you're bone-tired of being cold.
So you kick in. See you again, swallows.