You launch at the north end. You figure you'll let the south end heat up a little before you go back there. An eagle is fishing the north end, too.
You begin with a Damselator and fish your way around to the west side and down past the inlet. It's not too hot on the north end, either. You get a few flips from babies, and that's it.
You go ahead and cross back over. Trolling a fuzzy nymph brings no results.
You work down the east side with an orange muddler. It's the one you tied for the night you were skunked. It still needs to be blooded.
The goose family just watches you go by.
You work all the way down the east side and keep on going. The lake seems to have shut down for the night.
You get back to the inlet at dusk. You work it over carefully. More flips. When you feel you've done all you can here you let the muddler sit while you ponder your next move. Out of the corner of your eye you see a fish take it.
Where were you a minute ago? Doesn't matter. Thanks for stopping by.
It's getting toward dark, and you've got your fish, so you begin to angle across the lake back to the take out. You drift the muddler behind you. You hook a little Rainbow that jumps off the hook. Nice little grace note on the evening.
Halfway across the rod thrums and something starts taking line out. It pulls hard, and takes awhile to get safely in the net. It felt like a 24 incher, but it's a foulhooked 18. You're happy with that.
Now that's a grace note on the evening.