Fly fishing

Fly fishing in a cool wet hollow. Placid water hemmed in by peely barked sycamores and mute mossy boulders. And wet cold that seeps into your bones and makes you shiver with all your warm clothes on.

The colors jump out today full of richness, fresh after a spring rain. A dogwood in white blooms arches around the bend in the river. And we wait patiently casting out flies. Making ripples in still pools.