It's another beautiful afternoon at Rocky Ford Creek. The sun is in and out of scudding clouds. It's almost hot when it's out, and refreshingly cool when it's hidden.
I'm hoping to get some photos of the conjunction of Venus, Mars, and the new moon after sunset. My DSLR camera and tripod are in the truck. But as the afternoon rolls on the clouds roll in.
Meanwhile I just fish. I spend lots of time with an indicator on, and I pick up four or five youngsters on scuds and various nymphs. (I get no takes on a bloodworm.)
Robins have now joined the list of Spring birds, and more Great Blue Herons have come. A male Marsh Hawk--ghostly white--patrols the opposite bank. He hits the brakes and drops like a stone. I hear a commotion in the cattails, and he rises with a dark shape in his talons and heads for a perch in the rocks. Mallards are here, and a variety of Grebes, all paired up and engaged in courtship. I wonder when the Pelicans will arrive.
I catch a better fish on a nondescript nymph as I'm stripping it in for a change of flies. It's a very pretty fish.
Each time I've been here in the past few weeks I hear sounds below my feet. The banks are riddled with Muskrat tunnels, and I often see them paddling in and out. Now I'm also hearing them gnawing away at their domain, creating even more passageways.
It seems like I just got here, but the light is going. I try a scud again--I've gotten the most attention with that fly--and sure enough, I hook a good fish. I work it in carefully and have the net in my hand when it breaks off. So it goes.
I clip off the indicator and tie on a stimulator and throw it around until it's time to go. I watch Great Blues circle overhead against the darkening clouds and figure someone else will have to take photos of the celestial show. I'm sorry to have to miss it.
The truck is packed. I start the engine, and pour some coffee. I'm about to shift into gear when a glint of moonlight flickers out of the shifting clouds. I study the sky critically. It looks like the clouds may break up enough for a good view.
I shut the engine off, grab my DSLR and climb out. Yes, it's going to happen. I set up the tripod as quickly as I can and get ready. And I get my shot.
You're getting out. Maybe not in your float tube, but you're getting out.
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