April 7th, Day Zero has arrived. The pre-dawn light reveals new snow dusting the ground here at Crooked Eddy. I stole out on the porch while the second cup of coffee brewed to check the thermometer: 32 degrees as the new dry fly season mathematically begins.

In truth I wandered bright rivers late last week, a Catskill Adams knotted to a long leader. I found the afternoon water temperature favorable, reaching 52, at last finding that first rise. A phantom, a rise for show, one to heighten my spirit as it awakens from the long sleep of winter. Surely not the mark of a certain feeding trout.

Saturday, as all of Roscoe celebrated the new season, the chill settled amid the winds and rain, though there were hopefuls encountered at the Catskill Brewery, as I tied dry flies, answered questions, and told snippets of the Catskill tradition. Sunday turned into a surprise day at the Catskill Rodmakers Workshop, where I not only completed finish planing the strips for my rod’s butt section, but whisked through an intermediate pass on the six strips selected for the mid-section. Perhaps the fire of spring and anticipation fueled me, for I worked on little sleep after a long day in Roscoe.

I felt the old energy returning even yesterday morning, quickly tying three of my black CDX caddisflies before leaving for the rod shop. Though I always encounter little black caddis about these rivers in those days before anticipation is finally transformed into the sublime glow of fishing the rise, I have never seen a trout take one, nor even rise to one. Later though, they can be the answer to an invisible question, as trout quickly jaded by the spring onslaught sip them from the drift between clusters of ignored Hendrickson duns. One rule of fishing: it is always best to have those patterns you know will not work, alongside all of those that you know will!

The forecast tells me to expect twenty-six degrees tonight, and a high tomorrow at freezing, milestones that will not tempt our water temperatures in the right direction. I may have to dedicate time to the tying vise to keep the internal fires smoldering. It will not be an early spring this year, looking more like the hatches will unfold slowly and later than I had hoped. Still, such seasons can provide brief yet wonderful opportunities to the faithful. The angler endures the damp, cold days, walking and wading in search of the light. Should providence smile, it will be a shy smile, one easy to miss during the long, silent hours of the day.

Here we are at last, April First. The gathering was much smaller than remembered last night, at the twenty-sixth Angler’s Reunion, and I thought that somewhat sad. Tommy Roseo and family once more blessed our palates with the Rockland House’s wonderful prime rib, toasted with single malt, friendship and dessert. Thank you, Tom, for all the wonderful meals you have hosted for our humble gatherings of anglers and fly tyers!

By now the faithful have gathered in the cold fog at Junction Pool, eager for that first cast. May they find whatever they seek along the bright waters of the Beaver Kill and the Willowemoc!

I am a week away from my own reclamation, though I have wandered bright water and may do so again before it is truly time.

Our weather remains fitful, as is the norm for a Catskill spring, though in truth we fare better than our neighbors to the north. There is talk of ice and snow upstate and into new England, while we look to a mix with cooler, then warmer days and, we hope, the rainfall our rivers so genuinely need. By the time the day dawns, our rivers should have been blessed with an inch and a half of rain, though the sunlight needed to warm them is expected to be lacking. So be it: rain first, warmth thereafter.

I’ll be busy as this last week of anticipation closes, tying flies and teaching a few tricks and patterns amid the season opening reveries at the Catskill Brewery. I offer thanks for the fly tyers of the Guild who have helped me fill two boxes with excellent spring patterns for the brewery’s charity raffle: John Apgar, Nuno Figueiredo, John Kavanaugh, Tyler Morehouse, Christina Muller, David Seifritz and Chris Takacs. A couple of ticket holding anglers are going to be catching some very fine trout this spring!

Just yesterday I packed a few more Gordon Quills and Catskill Adams in my new shirt pocket fly box. They will attend whatever forays I make during this last disheveled week of waiting. I’ve cleaned the floating line on the CFO that accompanies my old Orvis 99, freshened the leader and made it ready to fish wet or dry. It is still the season of the swing, though I will always be prepared for the miracle of an early rise!