SILVER GHOSTS

             
           

Another morning

getting out of bed on my day off with the highest hopes of having a world class day with the one who defeats me the most is just normal anymore. That's ok with me. Give and take. 

A lot less fish this year in our rivers has honed my skills and has brought me back to the detailed angler I use to be. 

The cool North wind passes through the crimson turned maples. The air is free of summers humid grip. Much hasn't changed here on the Rocky river since I felt the fly rod in my hands at age 10. Memories of learning how to read water and long days of  frustration seem to come back every fall.

The robust reflection on the water Is the glowing hue from autumns best. its been 23 years now since I stepped foot on her bank and I'm glad to be  reminded.  

I've carried a log for several years and have tracked the timing of these fish from c.f.s. rates to days it takes "pods" to get from A to B. Without knowing for sure it's all a guess.But it seems to be somewhat accurate. For the last 4 years I haven't recorded a thing. But its times like this that I'm glad I did.