Still not fishing (with photos!)

This past weekend I combined snowshoeing with a stroll past a favorite small stream. I didn't have a fishing rod but brought along a camera so that at least I could get some pictures that might relate the notion of fishing. I'm off on business trips for the next few weeks so I hoped that a glimpse of the waters would at least hold me for a while. Unfortunately, no water was to be seen.

This particular stream, no wider than eight feet or so at its widest, runs through a small valley. It's decidedly suburban criss-crossed by many roads and bordered by all manner of strip malls and commercial enterprises. Some of those have almost been its undoing over time.

If a few places it strays from the road and this is where this stream is at its best. Small pocket water. Broad riffles. Tree lined banks (some courtesy of the Candlewood Valley Chapter of TU). Beautiful, trout holding, plunge pools. One can begin to get away from it all especially when the stroll along its banks is accompanied by the meditative rhythm of fly fishing.

There are a couple of pools on this brook that are as close to sure things  -- from a trout catching perspective -- as one can come. They're very deep by this stream's standards and hold fish well when the water warms in the summer. I'm sure they're just as good a refuge during icy, cold winters. I've been skunked by these pools on occasion, but more often than not they'll yield a brown or brookie.

This year has been particularly snowy, hence the snowshoes. When we got to the valley the stream was not to be seen. I've seen it iced up pretty solid during particularly cold stretches but the stream has always been there. Not so this year. The entirety of it's run through this valley was covered with a deep blanket of snow. There was a small spot at the head of the valley where there's a waterfall of sorts and the running water peeked and gurfled through a hole in the snow. But the rest of the stretch was snow, snow, snow.

That's unfortunate. Long before I was a fly fisherman I loved to watch and listen to running water. Something about it recharges me. That's why fly fishing is such a perfect fit for me. Standing in running water washes away the troubles of the world if only for a brief time. There's the casting. And the sunlight. And the swirl of rising trout. And that's enough.

So, I'm off to the Far East for a couple of weeks. I don't expect to see trout water much less trout. Maybe some brownlines with large carp. Perhaps a Koi or two in a hotel fountain. We'll see.

Until then, tight lines.

Damn I'm tall! (and handsome)

This slope provides great shade for the stream below

Snake tracks. Okay, not really. Mouse tail? Maybe just a fault line.

And invasive vine that's killing off native species. It sure is pretty though.