Monday, May 21, 2012
It's A Shame It Can't Be Bottled.....
I have waited a couple of weeks to make this trip. As I step away from the jeep and into the woods I feel the stress and tension of obligations and deadlines fade away. The plan....spend a few hours fishing then go home to spend the rest of the day with my wife and kids. As I walk downstream my senses seem to wake up, as if I have been asleep for a very long time. My nose seems to be the first sense to be activated as the smell of damp earth instantly greets me. I stop to take a deep breath and look around. Is it my imagination or does the green coloration of the spring leaves and new ferns seem to be glowing? It does not matter I take it in just the same. The sunlight is filtering down through the leaves and spot lights a dew outlined spider and her web. I stop for a minute to admire her handy work and then move on. A moment later I stop in my tracks. I hear the unmistakable music of a wood thrush, arguably the most beautiful sound one can hear in the woods. I can't help but be impressed. And so the hike continues until I reach the spot where I'm ready to enter the stream and begin to pursue my main objective...the search for some trout.
It does not take long before before I take notice of a variety of mayflies and other aquatic insects flitting about the water in the sun lit patches. It also does not take long to bring my first brown trout to hand and a smile to my face. I quickly snap a picture and send him on his way. I move through riffles and pools and from pocket to pocket in search of my quarry. After a while I find several more of his brethren here and there. Each time is unique and never looses it's appeal. Each is safely released so that they may continue in the cycle of life and death in the stream.
Before I know it, I see the last bend in the stream that signals the trip is almost at at an end. My legs are "rubbery" from all of the balancing on slippery rocks and I'm tired but refreshed at the same time. I exit the stream and think to myself....it was a good morning. Other than my memories and a few photos, I have nothing to bring home with me. How wonderful would it be be able to experience the feelings and sensations at any time I choose and not have to wait until the next time I can be stream-side? It's a shame it can't be bottled.....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Some nice browns Kiwi, especially that last one. I for one am glad that you have to get out do some hiking and expend some energy to be rewarded with all the it "small stream fishing". I think it would quickly lose it's appeal for me if it was otherwise
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, simply beautiful. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteMark...Thanks. The last one was a case of the best was saved for last. He was about 11" and I picked him up in a hole that was about 3' across. It was and end to a great morning.
ReplyDeleteChris...Thanks very much. It took me a whole post to express myself. You summed up my trip in three words.
It's bottled in your mind.
ReplyDeleteThat last brown is a trophy.
Well done Kiwi.
Brk Trt...Thanks! Even though I have caught bigger browns than this guy as far as I'm concerned every fish brought to hand is a trophy. (and with C&R sometimes you can win the same trophy twice!)
ReplyDelete