I went fishing today. No, it wasn’t planned, not really, but then the sun did make an appearance and I decided to scratch the itch. The river brought a chill to my legs rather quickly, but the sun was high and bright above that ridgeline to the west making it almost comfortable.
I had harbored hopes of getting out this week. Monday was to be the warmest day according to the forecast, but the sun remained hidden, the winds blew hard from the Northwest, and the day simply underperformed. Today was a gift then, wanted though not expected, particularly with snow coming tonight and tomorrow’s return to the deep freeze.
The drive, in waders and winter layers, got me warmed up nicely, so too the hike down river to the pool I had decided to prospect. A nice warm torso, bathed in sunshine, put me in a good frame of mind, and that first cast rocketed out three quarters of the way across that wide run of water. I was hopeful that my little morning minnow would swing down and shimmy up one old brownie equally enthused by the warner than expected afternoon, but it was not to be. No matter, I was out hip deep in the river and stealing a few hours of salvation from the icy grip of winter.
Once I was back at home, I noticed the sun beaming down on my porch and got to thinking I might steal another moment or two. There was a package of fresh ground beef waiting in the refrigerator, so I put my boots back on, uncovered the grill, and took the empty propane tank up to the drugstore for a swap. I still try to pay heed to the heart surgeon that saved my life nearly seven years ago, so I don’t get to enjoy very much red meat. An early March hamburger deserved to be grilled, and that sun was just warm enough for me to pull it off.
Porch sitting is one of my favorite evening pastimes: the grill flaming, a cold beer in my hand, and that lovely view of the mountain with the sun easing down behind it. That beer tasted phenomenal, and the burger, ahh… well it made me forget it was winter for a little while.