Just 10 feet upstream, in a glassy pool, the March Brown was taken with a powerful slurp. A jump and a run later I had a stunning wild brown at hand.
I continued on upstream unsuccessfully. I stopped to enjoy my surroundings. They were hauntingly beautiful. Spider webs dripping with dew, small fish darting in the shallows, clear water, and rays of sunlight poking into the fog.
After a rest, I worked my way back downstream with a streamer. Regardless of the size of the fly, Salmon Parr were still taking. They eat just about whatever moves. Of course wild Browns like to eat meat too, and I was able to pull some out of deeper pockets.
|Where'd he go?|