hope. I still think there’s a chance we might remem-ber Earth is our only home and the other animals our kin. It’s true that I want to touch these unique fish, witness them in their original habitat. But that’s only part of why I make these journeys. Being in the pres-ence of wildness, in the presence of a native that has every right to live, opens me to a love that is deeper and will last longer than my own small life, a love I hope to share and pass on to Noah and Nathan. I think this is the foundation of awe. Placed next to a creature who has lived longer, who has inhabited a space and changed it with that long and loyal habi-tation, emphasizes the transience of our existence as humans and demonstrates how deep our debt is to these other creatures. To their beauty. To the roles they play in giving gifts of sustenance. To the way they give themselves back in death to make the place they’ve lived healthier. The water is cold and clear. The turbulence of snowmelt is now a month-old memory. We walk in and out of the creek bed, casting to pools upstream, to pockets behind boulders. Sun at midday clari-fies every branch and bathes the brilliant scarlet of Indian paintbrush and the muted blues of lupine. The fishing is slow. A few small browns and rainbows. Nothing else. We’ve changed flies several times, discussed and complained about possible rea-sons for the lack of action. We can’t make sense of it and revert to bad jokes, saying in the most ridiculous old-timer voice we can muster, “That’s why they call it fishin’ and not catchin’!” I’m stubborn and curious. It’s hard to get me to leave a stream. Even when the fishing isn’t good. • BELOW • “Through the trees, I heard a ruckus in this Montana stream. I followed the sound of splashing till I saw the multi-color sails of grayling flaring into the air. They were feisty, strutting and pumping their dorsal fins—iridescent blues and purples that dazzled like a fanning peacock— part of a riverine mating ritual that I watched momentarily before leaving them to their devices.” Photo: Steven Gnam
The Flyfish Journal The Flyfish Journal 15.3: Page 107
