Fly Fishing
Tag
August, West.
“. . . We talked a little about our bands,
talked a little about our future plans.
It’s not like we were best
Recalibrate
“Free Will” – Bry Webb
Sometimes “it’s good just to get out”, isn’t so much a cliche as it is an understatement.
Red-winged blackbirds in the reeds, the rocking of the boat, a
DAWDLE, DAWDLE . . . HURRY
Pike are hell on flies.
Razor sharp teeth and aggressive strikes, leave a fly box full of torn and shredded bits of feather and fur.
At the end of every season, inventory is
That’s That Then
It’s a long way to haul a boat just to find it all solid.
Close to a foot at the launches but you don’t know if you don’t go.
A quick look. A return home.
A rather anti-climatic
The Start of the End?
My hands were numb and my core trembled, as I stood at the edge of the Peace River. Slogging up the muddy banks, casting streamers and searching for willing fish. Thinking that I
Boredom Fighters
The fly rods sat idle, leaned up against a tree. Thunder rumbled in the distance, somewhere over the mountains. The rain beat down on the tarps, as we huddled
Northern Lights Underwater
A fish of the North, swimming in the peat stained streams of the muskeg and the crystal clear waters of the mountains.
Irridescent sides, colours shifting in the sunlight.
Still
All mornings should start like this.
Standing in a canoe as it glides along the surface, casting flies into the lily pads. The sun peaking over the treetops just before 5 am. The
The Wait and the Evidence
The wait. For spring. For the ice to leave. For spare time. For decent weather. Eventually the wait has to end. Make some time. Fuck the weatherman. He’s usually wrong anyways.
Soon Enough
Maps have been studied. Rumours investigated. Fly boxes filled. Rods cleaned, reels greased, and fly lines stretched. The boat is out of storage. The engine tuned. The 2013