As I waded upstream to the place where I caught my first fish I thought back to the first time I stepped into the river with a fly rod in hand. I was with a group of friends and one friend had convinced me that fly fishing was a great way to catch fish. The spot he took me on the Weber still holds the memories in that hole. Of course now it holds only my memories, not a fish to be seen. At least my memories like that section. I continued up stream a while and found someone fishing in the "money hole" as we used to call it. Somewhat disappointed, I continued upstream to where there has been some restoration in recent years.
It was there in the section above the hole where I caught my first fish on a fly-rod that I decided to sit and reflect on what I had learned over the years fly fishing. That list of concepts and life lessons is long. The one concept that kept returning to mind was that of patience and enjoying the moments that I have to think while standing in a river with rod in hand. I then looked up and saw this sight:
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