First of June.

The creek has been busy over the weekend, I can see pockmarks where gravel and algae have been disturbed.  Where anglers tromped through holding areas instead of walking the bank.  Wading through good spots instead of climbing out onto the bank, wallowing out to the opposite bank to untangle a snagged fly, the different ways they chose to spook their quarry.   

Tomorrow’s summer solstice, it’s hot and the fish are sulking.  One darts up and takes the fly. 

One’s enough.

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