Raindrops

Mid-October and it is forty degrees here in Crooked Eddy. The sun was warm yesterday as we gathered in the Wulff Gallery for our autumn Fly Tyer’s Roundtable. Heading out after the festivities, I noted a very unexpected 74 degrees on my vehicle thermometer.

I am thankful to hear gentle raindrops on the roof above my tying bench this morning, even more so when I looked at the forecast promising a full inch or more of that delicious rain through tonight.

At this season, friends know they can find me along the lower reaches of the Beaver Kill, though that has not been possible yet this autumn. The river is bare, idling through dry, sun dappled rocks and gravel in a base flow condition. We all hope to get every drop of that forecast inch throughout the Catskills!

Has the season truly changed? Snow showers await per Wednesday morning’s forecast, welcomed by a high of forty-five!

I still search for the magic of the dry fly at this season, though more often than not my search will be in vain. Well, you can catch fish by nymphing, say others, for they do not understand this is not about simply catching fish. For me, the full glory of that magic comes with a lovely bamboo rod in my hand, the whirring click of a classic reel after a soft dimple envelopes the bits of feathers and fur I send drifting softly down current!

Winter offers plenty of time to wander bright waters during some break in the monotony of ice and snow, time to swing a fly deep and slow when the stream gages show a slight rise in temperature. Is it not true the Catskills may offer only a handful of days like that? Quite true, but whatever few such moments are offered are enough.