The River is Greener on My Side

Despite a very late night, I set my alarm to get me up in time to make it to my home river just before first light. With only a couple hours of sleep and a few moments of discombobulation upon rising, I made it to my favourite stretch of water well before the sun or anyone else. Within the first few drifts in this particular pool, an attentive Steelhead would almost always find my offering. Today, these first few drifts went unnoticed as did the next, and the next. As the sun made its seemingly late appearance, so did other fisherman, and within minutes, it was no longer just me, the river and its inhabitants. I gathered my line and abandoned this pool that was no longer mine. I decided to fish a few areas that I haven't touched for quite some time, and I once again found solitude and a new appreciation for my home waters. In the past, I have unfairly overlooked this fine water with the illusion that the grass (in this case the river) is always greener on the other side. Today, I had an epiphany of sorts, and realized how beautiful this river really was. Things on my side are pretty darned green too.

The Steelhead were particularly witty and elusive today, which required me to be a little more witty than I usual am to find them. It turned out that Fisherman's Law had raised it unwelcome head once again, as from conversation with a few friendly comrades, "I should have been there yesterday"; yet I left the river this morning smiling (it seems I'm doing this a lot lately), satisfied and grateful for another day on water.