I continued to work the pools and runs of this little gem of a stream, knowing I would soon be into a fish.
I continued to walk and fish. I admired how the countryside was slowly coming to life. With Springs bright warm sunshine and Aprils gentile rains all is well.
Brook trout continued to take the fly. I was happy with the condition of the fish as well as the shear number of real small trout I observed.
As I made my way to the car I fished a pool that I reserve for my last casts. It is the final place on this stream before it enters places I do not like to fish.
It is in this place that I took the last fish of the day. A beautiful wild brown. It's remarkable how a fish so colorful can be so invisible. What a memory to bring home.