All about the flow

Today I spent some time on a stream that is typically ‘low and clear’. Needless to say, I don’t often do well here. Today was different, the water was up and it was a bit dirty. The run-glide-run sequences were replaced with one continuous riffle that seemed to go on for miles. I fished it all, casting to virtually every foot along the bank, stripping in slowly and letting my fly dangle in the current.  I did good. Fish were everywhere and it seemed like they were happy to be out of their typical pools, like chickens let out of their henhouse. 

 I sat down along the river. I let the sun warm my face. I closed my eyes and listed to the sound of the riffle. I let my mind wander to a time when the base flow of this stream, and many streams like it, was higher. Before agriculture, before drainage tile, water used to filter through the earth to be delivered to streams later, perhaps during the late summer, when trout need it the most. What was this river like back then? Was it one long riffle like it happens to be today? Was it full of fish, big fish? Then I started fishing again.

A brown  trout with dirty mop.