April has come, and a week remains until my hoped for introduction to the 2023 dry fly season. Our rivers are too high to wade, with spilling reservoirs from one side of the Catskills to the other, and water temperatures in the thirties this morning, far short of that magic fifty-degree mark which heralds spring hatches.
The mild winter had given multiple hints that an early spring would follow, one with wadable rivers and comfortable weather, but these mountains rarely welcome balmy weather early in the season. High, cold water is the traditional expectation after all.
I begin this (hopefully) final week of waiting in poor form, with a couple of days of feeling absolutely miserable, and dealing with necessities, things I would much rather avoid. Days of high, cold water are for chores and anticipation anyway, so I won’t be missing out on any fishing.
There are warmer temperatures ahead, as well as several days with showers. I pray the balance will tilt much further toward warm than it does toward wet. As always, Nature will have her way, but I hope for the chance to wander some riverbanks before the clock strikes zero.
Flies have been tied, rods and reels are waiting. Spring holds too much promise to rush things.
Bright Waters Catskill 