Do the fish know that it is Bastille Day?

If there were any Brown trout named Louis around they’d be Racoon food about now.Enough History.The river was very quiet this morning. The songbirds were doing their thing, and a mallard hen was seen jealously guarding her clutch of eggs. Ella barked at a Leopard frog in some dead wood, sniffed out a big snake under the Bunkerhill bridge abuttment and rolled in a dead something along the stream. She doesn’t smell too bad unless she’s in the front window where it gets a little warm.

The trilling of a cell phone finally broke through all of this beauty. I looked into the stream and observed a high-stick- nymphing-board meeting of sorts.Maybe it’s a Karma thing–I didn’t see one fish brought to hand while this multi-tasking, model -of -efficiency sport was working the water and the other party into a froth.

Note: Next time you go fishing stow your cell phone in the car, it will still be there upon your return.