heady material
i found myself wondering what the opposite of an indian summer day is, because there are times when fall makes an early appearance and because it would help me describe things. i found myself unrushed and changing plans. i found myself rigging up later then you are supposed to even when fall is here during the summer. i found myself wishing i had worn waders but i found myself glad i had worn long sleeves.
i found myself moving at the best pace, the only pace. i found myself holding fish from time to time and then found myself watching them swim away. i found myself standing in the high summer weeds while a fall breeze blew yellow leaves into the current. i found myself watching trout in the low clear water eating the ants that fell with leaves because of the fall breeze. i found myself with cold toes and soon i found myself thinking about my waders again.
i found myself fishing light tippets and small midges to a rainbow that gave me too many chances to hold it before deciding to spend the rest of his day far under a bush where fly fisherman with cold toes and too much time could not get to him.
by late afternoon the clouds had gone and the sun was bright. i found myself trying to be clever for the fish, just like i am for you now, but fewer and fewer of them bought it. summer had made a late showing, but made up for it by being hot and oppressive. i found myself watching the fish again but now they were anchored on the bottom, fins erect, hating the bright sun because they don’t have eyelids or hundred dollar sun glasses or time to stand in the weeds and over think things.
i found myself thinking they would like the shade of the bush better, but then remembered i had sent the big trout there with my slow hook sets and continued casts. so i found myself back in my car whose warmth brought feeling back to my feet. i found myself putting the windows down and driving slow. no need to rush it now, not after so much time spent finding myself.