Fly Fishing
Published in the Spring 2020 issue of The Avocet
When I was young and sad
I carried a rod of the finest cane
to a Kansas farm pond.
I popped blue gill with
a deer hair popper.
At the next pond up
I tried a Domino Nymph.
Black and white, it shone.
I don’t know what insect
it was meant to imitate.
You dove deep with that fly,
as I kept the rod tip high; then
you tail-walked across the pond.
You broke the line and were gone,
bigger than any bass I had ever caught.
From that day since
Nature has been my solace,
perhaps from even before,
but you cemented my naturalist persona
and I knew I would always be a fisherman.
To learn more about fish and fish watching, visit the North American Native Fishes Association.
http://www.nanfa.org/
Published in the Spring 2020 issue of The Avocet
When I was young and sad
I carried a rod of the finest cane
to a Kansas farm pond.
I popped blue gill with
a deer hair popper.
At the next pond up
I tried a Domino Nymph.
Black and white, it shone.
I don’t know what insect
it was meant to imitate.
You dove deep with that fly,
as I kept the rod tip high; then
you tail-walked across the pond.
You broke the line and were gone,
bigger than any bass I had ever caught.
From that day since
Nature has been my solace,
perhaps from even before,
but you cemented my naturalist persona
and I knew I would always be a fisherman.
To learn more about fish and fish watching, visit the North American Native Fishes Association.
http://www.nanfa.org/
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