Leaves On The Water

There is no denying it now, even after a pair of hot, sunny days; we are about to begin the final third of the dry fly season.

Mostly overcast yesterday, and I had hopes for the sight of mayflies. The morning had that odd mixture of humid warmth, with a tinge of coolness as the cloud banks mixed in the heavens. It felt like rain, and I spent most of the day in my old SST jacket, though no drops fell, and no hatch appeared.

Though the day proved to be mostly a calm one, there were a few sprites of breeze seeming to come from nowhere, enough to brighten the water with the first yellow leaves. I fished hard, so much so that both my shoulder and elbow were barking this morning. A few small trout sampled my dry flies, but I enjoyed just a single chance at something more.

The Red Gods stirred one of those phantom zephyrs at just the moment I delivered my cast. The drifting leaf fragments competed with my fly for attention, and my eyes fooled me into believing the cast had fallen short. I was straining to discern the fly’s location when a pop tight to the bank surprised me. That microsecond of indecision wrecked my timing, and I snatched the rod away, touching nothing. The streak on the surface proved my fly had been where I had intended, and that resounding pop had been my day’s chance for glory.

Such fish do not come back for another bite. There are no replays in this game. I tried a few more casts, changed the fly and tried even more, all the while knowing there would be no take. Honor requires the effort be made regardless.

A cooling trend begins today, with significant rainfall overnight. I hope the rivers get a good draught, for they have returned to those low, clear and warm conditions which limit fishing opportunities. It is not a bad thing if late summer looks and acts more like autumn.

I am ready to see the dark Isonychia mayflies drifting upon the surface of the Delaware, her rainbows picking them off in the riffles, the bright little Hebes hidden in the afternoon glare until vanishing in the tiniest sips imaginable. I am ready to bask in the golden sunlight cast upon the rivers at this time of year.