This seemed like a fine spot. The camera was starting to get a bit heavy, and I was anxious to take some pictures. A sandy trail bordered by scrub pines was behind me,and I now sat on a lush ledge among towering cedars. The morning chill only heightened my joy of presence here.
Below an oxbow presented a unusually broad panorama of the river not normally available from a single location. The early morning sun was behind me, streaming through the scraggly pines, but buffered by the cedar’s barrier gave a great contrast to the scene.
Through the mist rising from the stream, a doe and two fawns appeared on the far side of the oxbow for their morning drink. Three pictures later, they slid away into the tall grass.
It was a perfect spot to break in the new camera that I bought for times like this.Some days the fishing wasn’t good, or I just couldn’t get in the mood for it. Today was one of those times. But now the trout were beginning to rise along the high bank that the local chapter 0f Trout Unlimited had restored several years back.
The memory of a nineteen inch brown I caught there about a year ago nearly lured me from my cozy nook. Of course a canoe came slithering through the bend. I don’t know which was worse, that it ruined the mood or the fishing.
The sun had now dried the dew and retrieved the mist from the river. A goshawk gliding along some thermal past the pines suddenly swooped down for a chipmunk breakfast. A short nap was speared by the crack of a large branch seemingly right behind me. A bear?
No, just another itinerant fly caster stumbling his way along on dry land. Granting him access to my spot, I realized that it hadn’t been far enough.
