You want another look at the inlet. It's a fine August afternoon.
The lake is that rich organic soup of high summer.
The level is down some more. Reeds stand tall.
The inlet is shallow and weedy. You find a few fingerlings still hanging out there. They're all over the golden muddler.
You fish down the shoreline working the weed beds and find a few more baby trout, but your eyes are on the deep water in the shadow of the mountain.
You look back at the inlet shoreline. This will be the last time you fish there for awhile.
You move out of sunlight into shadow.
A better fish comes up for the muddler.
You move over the water plying the muddler. There are fish rising here and there. You get some hits and misses. You get some brief hookups.
Then you get a hookup that holds until you bring the fish to the net.
You keep going, working your way toward the far bank.
Here, where you fished for drakes in May and June, you switch to a nymph under an indicator. You go deep, hoping for a lunker.
You get a feisty little trout hoping to grow up to be a lunker.
You have a long kick back, so you tie on the golden muddler and head out, drifting it behind you.
You get some bumps, and another brief hookup, and then all is calm.
One more day at the lake comes to an end.