The Pleasures of Getting Skunked

• Our vacation was spattered with painting, fixing cracks in the plaster, scraping woodwork, cleaning out closets and one day of fishing.

• The most memorable day was spent at Oil Creek. The water was very low but they did stock it last week. I was hoping for some dumb hatchery fish to fall for the tiny fly I had on the end of my hook but I guess my clumsy splashing through the water to get to my spot made even a dumb fish wary.


• I find that I'm a pretty good flyfisherwoman for about an hour. My line lays out softly and pretty accurately when I concentrate on my form. If after about an hour I don't catch a fish, my attention span is shot. I soon find my line slapping the water in an almost spiteful way. Maybe I'll hit one on the head.
  


• Then I start looking around to see if anyone else is catching anything. Is someone else catching them all? Perhaps my husband? I spot him down river and he seems content and happy sending his line out across the water but I don't see anyone catching anything.


• Then I'm starting to think that perhaps I may soon have to find the restroom, not yet, but something to think about as I stand in the running water and starting to get a bit chilled from the late afternoon breeze.
  


• Soon after that I'll go through my "looking around" stage. Oh, look at that bird. Gee, is that a beaver? What made that noise in the bushes?
  


• Then a large orange leaf catches my eye as it floats gracefully down from the tree on the bank. Suddenly it is so quiet I can actually hear it hit the water.
  


• Wow, it is so beautiful here, I'll think to myself. Then a Great Blue Heron flies overhead.


• Thank goodness the fun of fishing doesn't depend on catching fish.


• When the day was over and we were heading back we came across a nice lady who asked us how we did. Skunked, was my answer. She got 2, her husband, 5 rainbows. Really? "What did you use", I asked. Wooly buggers was her answer. Ahhh....wooly buggers.