Welcome to a New Year! January is teasing with the barest dusting of snow at daybreak, just a trace upon the grass, though Point Mountain’s eastern flank brings a smile to the boy still deep inside me.
In truth, there was a glimpse of white up high when I drove over to the rod shop on Saturday, but our village remains in somber grays and muted greens. I miss the snow! December has passed and still the dreary landscape greets my eyes each day. That inner boy is calling, recalling days when schools were closed and sledding made spirits bright!
Mountain snowfall brings more than smiles at their glistening beauty, for they supply the groundwater that charges the springs which feed the rills that become the brooks that nurse the trout waters from which old anglers such as I draw life itself!
The late autumn and winter rains have oft been gentle, and thus good for the rivers, but there is no substitute for the slow drip of a mountain snowpack tight to the bosom of Mother Earth.
I long to walk along the genesis of bright waters, to watch the ice dripping close to the earth, just as I long to wade these rivers of my heart and cast a fly. If it must be winter, then let it be.
Bright Waters Catskill 