Rocky Ford Creek Report: One of Those Days

You're letting the weather make the call on fishing. Sunshine means go. You have to leave later than usual, but you go.

The creek looks beautiful in the brightness. When the breeze dies, the sun is hot on your neck. A man you passed on the way in said, "It's a good day for it!" But for what?

Things seem very quiet. Then a fish comes up noisily. Maybe it's a good day for fishing.

Fish will come up all afternoon, many launching themselves out of the water. You see what must be a two-footer (it looks like three) hanging in the sunlight for a moment before coming down with a heavy splash.

In spite of that you can't get them to take a fly. You try your new flies, but they don't want a Red Tag or a pheasant tail nymph. You try everything, including all the proven fish-getters, but they simply aren't interested in what you're offering. Maybe it's not such a good day for fishing.

Then you're drifting a bead head prince nymph under an indicator, and you get a take. It's a youngster, but it does itself proud, launching into the air just like a three-footer. You enjoy yourself. You're pretty sure, though, that this little fish will get a stern talking-to from the older fish when it gets back.

That's all you'll get on the prince nymph. You try something else, attempting to unravel the mystery of these fish on this day. You know that's at least half of the pleasure you take in this pastime.

It seems that evening comes early. You think maybe if you had come at the usual time you would have caught more fish. Then you survey the quiet creek and think maybe this was a good day to get here late. More time wouldn't have helped. It was just one of those days.

You go ahead and tie on a mouse. You move downstream a ways and cast to some new water for awhile. You hear robins for the first time, squabbling in the brush across the creek. They're early, but you're glad to have them back. You glance downstream at a rock in the current thinking you might see a pelican. But no; they'll be coming along a little later.

You pick your way through the cattails back to your favorite spot. You swim the mouse through all the fishiest water, places you've moved fish before. But it's over for today.

You're pleased to see the new crescent moon setting in the west. You keep it in view as you walk back to the truck.

By the time you get there the stars are out. As you pack up you think back over the afternoon. Slowly but surely all the moments and sensations coalesce into a deep sense of peace and contentment.

Yes, it was one of those days: outside...on the water...fishing. Perfect.