The #8 hopper splatted on the surface of the small creek and swirled momentarily in the foam line before disappearing in a flash of orange and brown. The scene replayed throughout the day in all of the typical runs and pools with several nice fish showing my fly love. The real gem of a fish came on an articulated streamer pulled through a deep run created by a large rock on the far side of the creek. The big brown must have been waiting there in the slack water biding his time and waiting for his unsuspecting prey when my streamer swam by.
The fishing was good that day, although I was more excited about walking through the woods and hearing the creek, and birds, and wind, and the rest of nature moving around me.