Practice, Practice, Practice...

I got out of work (you didn't think I just fished all the time did you?) at around 4:30 and rushed down to the Animas. I was anxious to go back to a spot where I hooked but lost a couple nice ones the other day. I rigged up with the same gear, threw on my waders and got down there. I must have missed the fish, they were obviously in for the night (that's what I tell myself.) Instead of moving around or trying a million flies, I decided to just work the section where I was. I practiced getting a good drift on the opposite side of the river with 5 different currents between my indicator and I. I practiced casting, practiced watching ducks, and practiced enjoying a beautiful dusk. We're lucky to have such an enchanted river flowing through town. Hopefully next time I hook one in that spot I'll have a tighter line. As tiny midges came off of the top of the water and the light grew more dim, I realized I had some nasty wading to do before there was no more light. I headed back to the relative safety of my jeep and watched the blue heron make his last flight of the evening.