Days in the fifties and nights in the thirties or forties seem to be the norm as it has finally begun the month of May. The greening of the landscape has continued, though grudgingly, and even the drift boat regattas not seem to be blooming.
Granted, my vistas have been limited to peeks at rivers and access areas viewed from the highways to and from doctor’s offices these past few weeks, but even these are telling. Perhaps one of the sure signs before me are the wages of nearing seventy: healing isn’t the quick fix of the past. I took my baby steps in returning to the rivers, regaled with some success while taking care to not overdo things, but my Hendrickson hatch included one afternoon with trout seemed unaware that these lovely tan things were edible. A second shot? I counted on the flies upon my fingers, though brought a nymphing nice brownie up to my 100-Year Dun. The cold fronts and my slow healing took the reins from there.
The coming few days may warm up a bit, but not for the duration, and my chances are tasting even a few hours of it are not the best.
I did boost my mood yesterday, gathering at one of my favorite establishments Hidden Springs Brewhouse in Chenango Lake for the season’s first show for the Nate Gross Band. Great music lifts the spirits wonderfully, and Nate and the band wailed! Soaring blues guitar cuts straight into my soul, and I savored the music and my sole medically authorized pint of Lady of The Lake, HSB’s signature blond ale.
This morning, I am clinging to those memories as I ponder the possibilities of a small taste of dry fly fishing…
Bright Waters Catskill 