Thursday, August 18, 2011
Where Magic Lives
As you approach your favorite cove on a special stillwater time stops. Your the only person there, nobody on shore, and no other boats on the horizon. The lake has turned to glass and as the evening fades colors of light shine like a mirror back at you. The hatches have started, blood midge, caddis, and the white winged sulfur mayflies. Pods of rainbows are beginning to rise now. There are so many fish you don't even know where to cast. The bugs become thicker, in your eyes, nose, and mouth. The only sounds are the hum of wings, and splashy rises from fish taking emergers. Now the fish are rising right next to the boat completely oblivious to you. They could care less. You've hooked several rainbows on the dry fly and keep casting until it's so dark, you can't see the fly anymore. The moon rises above the mountains, glowing, and as you look around still hearing the fish rise you say to yourself, "This is where magic lives..."