I walk on a sidewalk beside a river. It seems tame. Out of place. I think about trails I’ve walked beside rivers. These seem tame as well. Then I think about rivers that have no trails, no sidewalks. Just a river or maybe just a stream. In any case no trail and if you want to move along you better get your feet wet and maybe even be prepared to swim.
One thing I’ll say about this sidewalk is that it’s high above the river, a good twenty feet – maybe even thirty, and you can see right through the water from here. Today I saw a big drum tailing hard. Fifteen pounder. Nose down in the rocks and feeding. That alone is reason enough to tolerate a sidewalk. I’ll keep an eye out for that fish. Maybe take a poke at him with the fly rod if the opportunity presents itself. Which of course it will because that’s the whole reason I speak of it here.
This was more than an encounter. It was an encounter that resulted in a plan. A fuzzy, ill-calculated plan that will likely never come to fruition. But it might.
We’d kill for some rain around here. Everything getting dusty.