Late November is a time of transition in the woods and streams. It also affects us. Darkness comes sooner, we attempt to slow our pace, spend more time together, and prepare for what about to come next.
This is a time when the woods take on what seems to be a time of only one color. That all trees look to be the same, long and short poles of gray. There are no flowers, or green patches of grass along the way. On some days even the sky takes on a gray color blending in with the November earth.
The streams as well as their inhabitants show change. The cold waters full of oxygen seem to be so clear as if you were gazing through air. The trout have for the most part finished their spawning. They have grown thin and must try to gain some weight, before winter tests them. Gone are the brisk splashy rises to a dry fly, and here are the subsurface strikes to a streamer, or the subtle bump of a trout taking a beadhead Pheasant Tail.
Take the time to walk the woods and perhaps a small stream....transition is beautiful.
There is some color, we just have to look.
As I walked this stream,this late November a Woodcock flushed, but did not land....perhaps as if to say goodbye.
