
There was a glimpse of sunshine this afternoon, enough to get me up and out for a riverwalk. Once the forecasters admitted to their bogus winter storm warning, some still clung to the ghost of some lake effect snow that could find us later in the day. For the record, I have seen not a single flake, though they are still calling for snow tonight: seventy percent chance of zero inches.
The cold wind did have a bite in it, and I pulled the hood of my down jacket snug over the top of the wool ballcap as soon as I stepped out onto the porch. It was late enough that the sun illuminated only the east bank of the river, with all of the windswept flow in shadow. I am determined to get enough fresh air to fight off whatever the hell it is I’ve got, as I have given up on medicines.
I tied about a dozen and a half assorted dry flies today, the dozen for another Catskill Museum donation, the others to more or less even out my year-to-date total at seven dozen flies. I guess that’s enough to say that I have passed my seasonal lull, though I cannot say I am feeling the usual excitement either.

My winter long wrestling match with feeling sick, tired and out of sorts hasn’t let me get into the usual spirit. My goal now is to rid myself of this malaise and get ready to enjoy Flyfest!
The winter and early spring gatherings help us all keep the fires hot during these last months of endless waiting for the angling days we treasure. Flyfest comes along the last weekend in February and gives us a boost that lasts until the end of March and the Angler’s Reunion Dinner before Opening Day. Yes, we all know that we can fish throughout the year now, but the first of April is still the opener, the herald that a new dry fly season lies on the doorstep.
The ten-day forecast clearly shows that winter remains. The warmest day in that stretch is promised to hit a high of forty-one, and the nights are all cold. I can’t complain too loudly for we had a terrific February warmup, though I only got out on the river on one of those precious afternoons.
