These guys took up residence at my place this summer. One guards the backyard. The other two patrol the back porch mostly at night. The toad is a handsome prince that seems to tolerate my presence in his backyard, moving aside to allow me to pass with no complaint and no fear. The gecko on the other hand trust me to get only so close before she scurries off to one of her hidey holes until I've left. The green anole once popped his orange throat at me in a blazing display of defiance as I tried to sit in his back porch chair. I let him have the chair and now check under the cushion before I sit there. I am fond of my little reptile and amphibian animal friends and believe they are here because I refuse to use pesticides around my house. Yes I have bugs, the ones these friends don't eat, but they keep them to a reasonable level as Nature intended...good trade!
It seems right to live with nature instead of against it. We are all part of the same whole, part of the grand purpose and part of the grand finale if we allow it. Be good to your fellow denizens, share with them what was meant for us all. Give not take, share not hoard, understand harmony with all that lives. I will miss them this winter, happy hibernation good friends.
Fly fisherman all over the country may have hit pay dirt with a little lauded flick titled Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, a chic flick with a river running through it. Fly fishing philosophies and relationships on the rocks, fly tying and impossible love, good guys and bad guys and a testament to evidence of things hoped for but yet unseen and the tenacity in the lives of men and fish that can foster, this film has something for virtually everyone. So fly anglers grab your significant other and curl up with this movie. It could refine your passion for fly fishing and change your luck in love.
Every shaman angler needs a flint knife if for no other reason than to please the ancients should they be looking on. The stone I made this from, Georgetown flint, was a gift from a new friend I became acquainted with just this weekend. He tossed me a large flake he had dislodged from the spall he was working and said, "Here make something with that." To be honest my first thought wasn't knife blade. The first thought was about being embarassed in front of the donor when I turned his gift into lithic debitage, but as I began to work the stone it gave rise to a knife blade figment. The more I worked the more my mind became focused on bringing a shaman's knife to fruition. I dug out the deer antler shed I had been saving for an unknown reason until now and then leather and fur from my fly tying supplies. Some grinding and carving on the antler for a good fit, and finishing touches to the blade edges, the parts were assembled by the end of the day into my first shaman knife. This certainly wasn't my planned purpose for the day but sometimes good things happen if you allow them by staying out of the way. Yet one more example of lending an ear to those small voices that are there to guide you.
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| Dragon Dream |
On my last two trips fly fishing for bass I watched sizable bass leap a full body length or more from shoreline waters in an attempt to capture dragonflies hovering overhead. One would think there must be something very appealing about dragonflies for a fish to expend that much energy on a venture so unlikely to succeed. Actually their success rate may be higher than you imagine. I have caught bass whose stomachs were full of dragonflies. I've attempted to imitate the dragonfly with various forms of poppers but never with much success due mostly to the fact the summertime shallows frequented by the dragonflies almost always contain weeds and/or moss making a weedless fly an absolute necessity. Weedless poppers that are actually weedless are hard to come by. Necessity being the mother of invention the solution pictured came to me in a day dream. This simple pattern is made from craft foam, lays hook up in the water, is virtually weedless and the bass love them. The wings are made from crystal flash but other similar materials should work just as well. The downside, due to the wings, the fly tends to twist your leader during the cast so you have to keep your false casts to a minimum. The craft foam comes in numerous colors and is very inexpensive. If you fly fish for bass give it a try on your next summertime bass fishing adventure. I think you will be pleased. If your are not a fly fisherman perhaps you should be.
The past few days I've been fortunate to have experienced some extra-ordinary fly fishing for bass in two separate lakes. The first I described in my last post. Today I was invited by friends to fish a private lake south of my home that was rumored to contain an abundance of large bass. This turned out to be a professed understatement and I have the sore arms to prove it. High air pressure and blue bird skies are usually a detriment to successful fishing this time of year but not today. Just about everything from deer hair popping bugs to rabbit hair flies to a dicy concoction its creator calls a Christmas Clouser caught quality bass in abundance. Some large bluegill were also reported to have fallen victim to fur and feather. Bass were caught on top, deep along creek channels and shallow against the shoreline where bass were frequently seen leaping from the water in pursuit of big juicy darting dragonflies. Leaders were stretched and some broken and fly rods put to the test again and again. Much thanks to the friends that included me in this outing and the landowner that allowed it. It was a dream like trip and one I will not soon forget.
This morning I had an extra-ordinary fishing excursion. We have just passed the summer solstice and the weather is already hot so I wasn't expecting a lot of catching...but hoped there would be a dawn bite that would scratch the fishing itch I've had all week. I think temps may have hit triple digits today...heat index at least. Fortunately I was back home napping in the a/c before that happened. I left the house at five which put me on the water just before sunrise. I had decided on the way to the lake to start out fishing the top of the water column along the shore and as the morning warmed to go to a baitfish pattern and fish the deep side of the weed lines. I was right about the top part but dead wrong about working the shoreline. As I paddled my way across the lake to the opposite shore where I had decided to start the day's angling something slammed my popping bug that was dragging behind the boat in probably twenty feet of water. It was a small bass. My mind told me the strike was a fluke but as I continued to the other shoreline fish began to feed on the surface within casting range so "what the heck" I sailed the popper to the rise and boom another small bass. This one pulled off. I scanned the lake and could see surface feeding scattered all over the middle part of the lake. Ignoring those small voices I've mentioned before I stubbornly began to fish the shoreline I felt sure would hold fish like it had many times before...nada. I kept watching the deeper water and still there were surface feeding fish there. After fifty yards of fish-less shoreline I slapped myself on the side of my head, called myself stupid and gave in to the small voices I had been ignoring and headed for deep water. Right away I started catching fish again by casting to the rises I could reach with my fly rod and popping bug. The rest of the morning I fished popping bugs in the middle of the lake never getting closer than fifty yards to the shoreline...popping bugs in 20 feet of water! The feeding tempo increased to a frenzy by 9:00 and I was catching fish after fish after fish...half of them bass and the balance hand size bluegill and copper nose. At one point my arms were aching so from rapid fire casting and landing fish I actually thought of resting but knew I was experiencing a gift from the fishing gods and didn't want to miss any of it or appear ungrateful. The lesson learned is that sometimes, skill and years of experience can't beat the magic of being in the right place at the right time and listening to those small voices.
Rivers are my favorite of the water abodes. They are ever changing and filled with mystery. The life blood of terra firma, left alone they will nurture the land from their headwaters to the delta they form at their union with the oceans. Their free form caress of the face of the globe follows valleys and lowlands within their grasp as they seek to return to their sea level birthplace. Their denizens are many, from microscopic to majestic, each following their own path shaped to near perfection by eons of trial and error. Subject to rage but given to peace and tranquility rivers are truly one of earth's treasures.
These guys took up residence at my place this summer. One guards the backyard. The other two patrol the back porch mostly at night. The toad is a handsome prince that seems to tolerate my presence in his backyard, moving aside to allow me to pass with no complaint and no fear. The gecko on the other hand trust me to get only so close before she scurries off to one of her hidey holes until I've left. The green anole once popped his orange throat at me in a blazing display of defiance as I tried to sit in his back porch chair. I let him have the chair and now check under the cushion before I sit there. I am fond of my little reptile and amphibian animal friends and believe they are here because I refuse to use pesticides around my house. Yes I have bugs, the ones these friends don't eat, but they keep them to a reasonable level as Nature intended...good trade! 
