But without question the fish I care most about are wild native brook trout. I cringe at seeing a photo of a dead wild brookie within it's native range. The fact that I love these fish and the places they live with all my heart made the last two years of drought a living hell. I watched streams literally disapear into the ground. How could fish survive these conditions? My worst fear is that I won't be able to show my own grandchildren the streams I grew up on and the fish that live there.
There were a few streams in particular that I live very close to that I feared the worst of last fall. Would I come back and find fish? Yesterday I got my answer. And I can tell you, for a couple hours I felt like a new angler fishing these streams for the first time. I fished only dry flies, jumped and caught bugs, and was in awe of nature. The hendricksons were out in force, as were caddis and stones. These are the first days when fish need not look anywhere but up to find food.