Late Winter Dry Fly Bluegills

I've never lost my adoration for the first fish I ever caught on hook and line. Bluegills are tenacious, beautiful little (and sometimes not so little) animals. Though my methods of fishing and my perspectives of fishing for bluegills, when I catch one, I still look at its iridescent colors and smile. Now, instead of bobbers and worms, dry flies and fine tippets are my favorite tools for coaxing farm pond bluegills. And, though many would wait for the waters to warm dramatically, my experience has taught me to venture to shallow far ponds just days after the ice is off of them to find bluegills looking up. After months of fishing for very little other than trout in flowing rivers, visiting a pond is a huge relief to an angler like myself who craves variety of species, setting, and fishing style. The sun draws both sunfish and insects to the surface, and they can be finicky.

In the summer, the "tap", "pop", and "tsip" sounds of bluegills sucking food items off the bottoms of lily pads sooth my soul. Well, when conditions line up right in January, February and March, I've gotten a reprise from winter hearing much the same sounds as bluegills fed in the same manner from the bottom of floating algae lumps. Make a well placed cast with a simple black beetle and these fish can be coaxed out from under the algae. 

 Size doesn't particularly matter when I am catching the first dry fly bluegills of the year. I'm just glad to be doing it at all. That purple winter sheen on a four inch bluegill? I love it.

The first dry fly bluegill of the year doesn't mean it won't snow again or get below freezing, many years I get the first in a January thaw. But it keeps me from going completely trout-bonkers before winter really does end. In the months following March bluegills won't be a prime objective most days, as pike, walleye, carp, bowfin, striped bass, and weakfish will all soon be some of the species I most want to fish for. Their attractiveness is almost undeniable.  But I try not to lose sight of the girl that brought me to the dance in the first place. Were it not for the humble bluegill, I'd be a very different fisherman. 

Until next time,

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

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