Another winter storm begins, and though it is just 52 days from my hoped for beginning of the dry fly season, it is becoming ever more difficult to believe in the promise. Each time I gaze at the rivers, locked in snow and ice week after week, doubt creeps into my thoughts.
The Farmer’s Almanac predicts a wet and snowy March, and the signs so far, halfway through February, do not defer. Whence will come the warmer air and the sunlight to release the rivers’ flow? Well, we shall see…
(Photo courtesy Chuck Coronato)
Dana Lamb offered some relief this morning, precious moments of comfort and ease as we wandered together Where The Pools Are Bright and Deep. I have worked a little, planing my strips of bamboo, tying flies in twos and threes, wandering listlessly through this world of white, escaping whenever I can through the doorways held by the great writers of angling.
Just now, I look ahead to Flyfest, hoping that with winter dealing us another blow this weekend, she will smile and offer some consolation next week. That winter gathering of Catskill fly tyers is something I enjoy heartily.
Time for breakfast and hope, and Dana is waiting to share his memories…
Bright Waters Catskill 