Archive for April, 2009

April 30th

Thursday, April 30th, 2009

This year I made a decision to fish again for the pure enjoyment of being able to.

Fishing had lost some of its lightness.

I have always fished and always loved to fish or just be there and I still do.

Today I went to the Blackstone.

Imagine, the Blackstone with trout in it.

Still amazing to a Yankee like me

It’s a friggin miracle.


I tied up a pile of flies last fall all glittery and shiny.

I used Christmas tree ornament colors like shiny red bodies and shiny green ones and made them into wet flies, soft hackles and nymphs.

I tied them in lots of sizes and styles.  It was fun and entertaining and interesting too.

I tied them as real flies with carapaces and legs and ribbing.

They look just like the regular patterns except they look like Christmas ornaments to boot.



Today it was more fun to fish with them because I didn’t care at all if they would work.  They did, every which way I fished them - they worked.

The trout liked them a lot and it was fun to catch them on these flies

Three fish broke me off and three more jumped off and I landed three; one a vey nice sized brown and two rainbows. I got there at 3:30 and left at 6.


I enjoyed every moment of it and I had no desire to stay and fish until dark.

That is the first time in my life that I did not feel like fishing until or after dark.

I wanted to get home and write this blog.


I think I have rekindled, “The incredible lightness of being,”  that feeling that comes when you find yourself fishing for no reason other then you let it be fun..


April 29th

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009


Yesterday and tomorrow, bookends to today.


Today my son is coming to visit me.

We won’t go fishng but we may take a ride to a river or the ocean front.

We may not but this is today not yesterday or tomorrow it is the present and it will be a memory soon.

A yesterday when tomorrow comes tomorrow - and I will not miss today.


How I wish I could have had one more day with my own father.

I am getting one more day with my son today and it is sweet and I will not waste it but will savor every moment.


I am being blessed and I know it.

So many things become meaningless as time goes by.

What remains is what is important.


Love and trust remain and all else disappears.

I am seeing my son today and I am blessed.

April 28th

Tuesday, April 28th, 2009



When I get the chance to spend a day on a river it reminds me of so many times in my life that rivers have carried me through life’s difficulties.

There are times when I have to be near them.

I do not know why it just is.

They are my music my song in my heart.


Yesterday the Black Quills were hatching and one of them, a spinner, sat on the tip of my finger and looked at me.

She was big and lovely and she wandered around on the tip of my finger and turned to each of the four directions and knew no fear. For me it was an event and a touch from the universe to my heart. Such beauty to witness such grace.


A bevy of little flitting Caddis flies surrounded my eyes and crawled all over my glasses and made me smile with their greeting and their welcoming touch.


Trout were rising and every rise gave me joy.

True mindless Joy from a place inside of me that only comes when trout are rising in a river and I am there, again.

It is a mystery to me where these feelings live and come from but they do come and all fishermen feel them too each in our own way and this primal spirit that is in men is in the rivers too.

It is there.

It is always there and greets us every time we come and in our dreams and in our daydreams too.

Trust is a river.

It sets us free to be as we are meant to be.

April 26th

Monday, April 27th, 2009


I like remembering things I care about and the memories that they contain.

Corned beef and cabbage, warm milk and maple syrup with some nutmeg, a soft boiled egg and pea soup.

Soft memories, sweet to my heart.


My dad’s old Pflueger Medalist with no paint on it.

His wooden fly tying materials box with inlays on the cover,

his bamboo rod.

American chop suey and my mothers’ clam chowder and going quahoging as a small boy.

Penn Jigmasters and my first 10 ½ foot casting rod that my dad made for me.

Islands in the bay and Nehi orange soda and peanut butter crackers and waking up on the boat with my dad at the helm in the morning after fishing all night and fishing all day and the next night too.


Playing first base in pick up games and horseshoe crabs and mummies and striped bass and my mothers French fries cooked in lard.

Mosquito’s on the porch at night and playing twenty questions every night until bedtime before there were tv’s.

My dad’s model A Ford and stories of landlocked salmon from Moose-look-my-gun-go-tick in Maine.

Home movies of me and my sister dancing in the fifties.

Catching scup and summer flounder on Sunday afternoons and fishing with my Aunt Eddie for scup at Nayatt point and eating her fried chicken and lemon meringue pie.

Home fries and beans and ham steak at Magee’s diner and trout fishing in Abbott Run and light Cahill’s so thick that you breathed them in.

Hunky Clark eating a Hexagena mayfly just to see what they tasted like.

Liverwust sandwiches and White Marlin and the smell of diesel and giant tuna.

Black Jitterbugs at night and my mom’s ham sandwiches and Wallum Lake and a black flatfish with orange spots and trout rising as far as the eye could see.


All the people I love.

April 25th

Saturday, April 25th, 2009



The forsythias are blooming and the Black Quills are hatching in the local rivers.

Lots of people confuse them with Quill Gordon’s but they are not.

They are a wonderful hatch to fish.  They are big and showy and the trout gorge on them throughout the middle of the day.

I am really enjoying my return to trout fishing.  Love my stripers and fishing for them in the little rivers in the spring especially as the moons both new and full approach.

The shrimp will be up near the surface at night and the worms too and it is such a kick to be out there in a river at night or in the evening and see fish rising and hearing them pop as they take something from the near surface. It is always a thrill and it is somehow peaceful and fulfilling at the same time.

Seeing the Blackstone as a trout river is fairly new to me and it is a wonderful addition to our small state a real freestone river that is being cared for and appreciated for the treasure that it is now and will continue to be in the future. I saw a hatch of Blue winged olives there a few days before trout season opened and that made me smile.

Mayflies in the Blackstone.

As my Grandma used to say, “Ain’t life grand.”

It is indeed.

Just this once

Friday, April 24th, 2009

Once upon a time a month or two ago,

My mother asked me to trust her just this once and I said yes.

She asked me in a dream.


Then she said,

” Trust is the only glue that does not bind.”


She has been dead ten years.

Mom’s say the most amazing things when you listen.

Places of the heart

Friday, April 24th, 2009

Places of the heart.


My father was a mystery to me.

I remember him as quiet and watchful.

Mostly silent never talking a great deal.

Keeping his thoughts to himself.

When we fished he talked and told me stories about fishing and life but even then he kept a veil around him. I had forgotten how that silence about his feelings and his thoughts was such a big part of him.

I think that his silence was his gift to me and everyone who knew him.

The other night I went fishing in a place where he would fish at night when I was a boy.

I would watch him get ready and walk down to the shore and wade out into the darkness by himself.  He would move slowly across a shallow flat and up onto a sunken bar casting his fly a Magog Smelt out into the flow of a river that formed the bar and he would disappear into the darkness.

He wanted to be there alone surrounded by silence.

I traced his footsteps the other night.

I cast my flies and slowly walked out across the flat and I felt his silence

his quiet all around me. I waded to the bar and moved along it feeling his presence more and more. I remembered my family and how this place was so dear to them my aunts and uncles and cousins and how precious this place those memories are to me.

I entered his place of silence at the end of the bar and silently said hi dad..

I felt his silence embrace me and become mine.

He gave me a most precious gift.

The mystery and the power of

his silence.

A gift for the rest of my life.

You can’t always get what you want

Friday, April 24th, 2009

Went out last night to visit little rivers looking for what might turn up.

I did not bring any rods or flies just my eyes and ears. I started in the upper bay and made my way west and south down towards the open ocean. I found every river just where I had left them and being with each one of them was like visiting an old and dear friend.

Rivers have a life of their own.  They all have a spirit, a personality, moods and character and all of them have mystery and sometimes share a kind of magic with those of us who fish. One of the rivers I went to last night was full of magic.

When I got there the tide was slack no current.

I did not see any worms. There were a few silversides but at the surface of the river bass were popping and boiling as far as I could see and my ears were smiling at the sounds of unseen fish enjoying themselves immensely.

I did not wet a line but I caught what I was fishing for.

Sometimes you get what you need and sometimes exactly what you want.

a song

Thursday, April 23rd, 2009


 A friend called and told me about the herons sitting in trees along a little river I love and he told me about the long swells that are crashing on the shoreline in Narragansett.

This earth is a beautiful and wondrous place.

The seasons pass and somehow in their passing renew our souls.

Spring is here and the mayflies are here again and the herring have returned and the Stripers are sipping in the worms again in all the old familiar places.

There is a song in my heart again and I am grateful that there is.