A Friend of Mine

Sorted stacks of rocks and boulders

Bars and beaches migrating in season

Jasper water pulls and pushes

Capped with white and riffles

Stillness, too

Dark and silent

Smooth as glass narrowing then wider

Bowing and bending, powerful, strong

Terrible

Peaceful

Wonderfully longing to go home

Smell the air

Breathe you in

Then let go

So long

Old friend

Same Thing Different

It wasn’t long and I sat down on a big rock and let the sun warm my face. I couldn’t recall the last time I was out so I closed my eyes and washed myself in it all and just let the rush of the river be the only sound. It felt good to be there. Like I had been missing something and then found it again. I didn’t have any place to be or any task demanding my attention. Today it didn’t even matter to me if I caught a fish or not. There was such a congregation of midges floating in the breeze that if I opened my eyes just enough I’d of thought it was snowing. It’s hard to describe moments such as these, other than to say, it was more than enough for me. There in the white noise and the warmth of the sun I sat and was glad to have found once again, what I didn’t know I was looking for.

Lunch Time

It's raining today. I know for most people this doesn't seem that exciting but when you live in the arid region of southwest Montana rain is a special treat. I honestly don't remember the last time it rained. As I make my way down to the river for some lunch time fishing I close my eyes and breathe in the cool moist air. A hint of sweet cottonwood hangs in the breeze. The gravel crunches beneath my feet and the rushing of the rivers grows louder as the confluence rises to my horizon. A few birds in the big juniper are talking about the weather or perhaps the latest small town news. I can't help but know this is where I recharge, this is where I'm alive. It doesn't matter so much if I even catch a fish today, being here is the reason I've come. So I'm grateful to be here on my lunch break casting a fly to some rising trout on this 3rd day of March. As the rain turns into more of a sprinkle the blue wing olives start to thicken and I can't help but smile.