Morning, early morning is such a wonderful time of day. Such was the morning of Tuesday. I awoke at four and went for my first cup of Nantucket. As I sipped that black brew, I was thinking of where I was going to cast my first fly of the day. I knew what river I was going to fish , but not the section. After the coffee I proceeded to ready myself and put the gear in the car. I was on the road by 4:45. The sky was still dark as I drove to my destination which is about 45 minutes away. I stopped for one more coffee at Dunkin Donuts, drinking it in the car. I reached the river about 5:30.
I was greeted by this whitetail as I was going to park. He was in velvet and was content to feed on some lush vegetation as I watched him. He never bolted for cover as I watched him, and as I pulled away he continued to feed.
These next photos of the Farmington as the sun was breaking through were a scene to ease ones eyes and mind.
I chose this run to cast my first flies of the day. The fog hung over the 56 degree water as the sun tried to burn it off.
There were no visible rises and I was going to prospect with a Bomber dry. I worked the run and the pool below with no takers. I changed to a soft hackle, and achieved the same results. It was about an hour later that I started to see a few fish rising. They were taking a small fly or a very tiny spinner fall from the night before. I tied on a small cdc fly, which was the smallest fly I have and no takers.
Trying to compete with this little fly that they apparently love and I could not offer I put on a summer favorite, "a beetle". That was the fly.
I only fished a couple of hours, but it did a days worth of fine tuning my mind.
Fire on the water.
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