Here comes summer

Dame’s rocket is now blooming, as is our patch of lilies of the valley. Yesterdays rain has been followed by today’s gusty winds. This spring, much of May feels like March. Tomorrow, the techs show up to check out our air conditioning for the summer season. Meanwhile, no signs yet of scarlet tanagers nor indigo buntings. This may be a migration season without exotics.

I bet you know that this weekend is Memorial Day, the unofficial start of summer, as compared to the summer solstice on June 20 this year or the beginning of meteorological summer on June 1. Got that straight? It would be nice if the weather settles down enough to make fly fishing a pleasant experience rather than a life threatening (lightning) excise in exasperation (wind).

a variety of fly lines for different rods

Photo by J. Harrington

Now that you’ve mentioned fly fishing, I’m considering replacing some of my “high modulus graphite” rods with new fashioned fiberglass. Yesterday I was reading about Have We Reached "Peak Fly Fishing"? (Or at least peak fly rod) and some related articles. In the process, I came across a mention of anglers, like me, who’ve developed a habit of overloading their graphite rods by one line weight to slow the casting action (e.g., use a 7 weight line on a rod designed for a 6 weight). What caught my eye was reference to making casting easier and less tiring. Some years ago, I tore up my right shoulder trying to tip up an outboard motor. I’m right handed so that’s my casting shoulder. Finding ways to enjoy casting without wearing out my shoulder has lots of appeal. I’ll start with my bamboo rod and play with a couple of line weights and see how that works and feels. At least I now have more insight into what I’m trying to accom[lish, and avoid, and how to try to do that. Next, I need mother nature to cooperate with some mild, sunny, basically calm weather. Of course, that will require freshening the permethrin on my bug shirts

Trout

By Kathryn Starbuck

I do my best 

to keep pointlessness 

at bay. But here, 

wet above my 

knees, I let it fly. 

Here, hot and cold, 

fingers thick with 

thinking, I try to 

tie the fly and look 

for the net, loosening 

the philosophical   

knot of why I came 

here today, not yet 

knowing whether 

I’ll free or fry 

the rainbows 

and browns once 

they’re mine.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.