It’s finally stopped raining long enough for me to do a second grass cutting of the season in the back yard. I was also going to mow our ditch where the dogs do most of their business but an orange butterfly, with spots, a fritillary I think, landed on some of the yellow wildflower/weed blossoms that would have been mown into oblivion. That deterred me from ditch mowing today.
Earlier, the Better Half and I headed off to the farm to pick up this week’s community supported agriculture [CSA] share. The share box contained:
- GREEN CABBAGE
- EITHER CARROTS OR GOLDEN NUGGET CHERRY TOMATOES (I think we got carrots)
- SNAP PEAS
- KALE
- BEETS WITH TOPS
- SCAPES
- BABY ONIONS
- SLICER CUCUMBER, and
- CILANTRO
During the drive we got a look at a couple of whitetail does and a few small flocks of wild turkeys. All in all a pleasant way to start a weekend.
box of fishing flies, mostly parachute Adams
Photo by J. Harrington
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Yesterday we threatened, or promised, depending on your viewpoint, to spend more time engaged with fly-fishing. Last night, while (re)reading Peter Kaminsky’s Fly Fisherman’s Guide to the Meaning of Life, we reached the chapter on A Fly Fisher’s Essential Reading. I thought you might enjoy seeing what and who's listed:
- In Our Time, Earnest Hemingway
- Trout Madness, Robert Traver
- A River Runs through It, Norman Maclean
- Tarpon Quest, John Cole
- Fy Fishing through the Midlife Crisis, Howell Raines
- Superior Fishing, Robert B. Roosevelt
- Spring Creek, Nick Lyons
- Hatches, Al Caucci and Bob Nastasi
- The Fly and the Fish, John Atherton
- Fishing wth McClane, A. J. McClane
I was pleased to note that I’ve read about half of the titles listed and other works of several of the authors listed. Once I’ve confirmed whether or not a couple of titles are lurking somewhere on our book shelves, we may add one or two of these to an upcoming Christmas list.
Speckled Trout
By Ron Rash
Water-flesh gleamed like mica:orange fins, red flankspots, a charshy as ginseng, found onlyin spring-flow gaps, the thin clearof faraway creeks no mapcould name. My cousin showed methose hidden places. I lovedhow we found them, the way wefollowed no trail, just stream-soundtangled in rhododendron,to where slow water openeda hole to slip a line in,and lift as from a well brightshadows of another world,held in my hand, their coloralready starting to fade.
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