The New Year morning arrived cold at our quiet house.
I awoke my usual early hour, bought new fishing licenses and decided to head out.
I wasn’t expecting to catch anything. But, I’ve not fished in a while and decided it would be fitting to start 2018 with a fly rod in-hand.
So, I headed to a local golf-course pond, the scene of an escapade in the fall.
Unfortunately, much of it was iced over, save for small radii around a few aerators. I went to the aerator closest to the edge and threw nymphs and Mops into the circle of water.
I was decked out in some of my ski gear. The line started to ice up on the third cast, and, after 20 minutes, every piece of exposed skin started to hurt. Also, guilt started to creep in: What if I caught a fish, heaved it back towards the water and missed? The idea of a dying fish on the ice started to cloud my mind.
So, I called off the outing and headed for some coffee and a sweet treat. I picked up some goodies for the children, too. Yet, it was very nice to walk outside and feel that fly rod bend in my hand.
Happy New Year, everyone!