The liquid of life

Here I sit on the back side of a three day weekend.  I made some very loose plans with Jermz, J.B., and Brad to sneak out early Saturday morning to do a little fishing.  The issue I posted last week about over stressing fish in extremely hot conditions prevailed.  So I acquiesced in favor of spending the day in blistering heat as My Jill and I took our oldest to her first University of Tennessee football game.

The heat index had to be at least 110.  Hot. No clouds. A throng of 90,000 orange clad people meandering as if it were the zombie apocalypse. Bottled water prevailing over stronger libations.
That was the situation until gametime.  Then came the rain.  And it has yet to stop.  And it will not stop for at least another 24 hours.  Flooding will no doubt follow, which will in turn blow out the rivers and turn them into a chocolate milk of churning rolling water.

From the heat and hardly any water to early fall temperatures and flooding.

An angler just can't get a break.

I try to convince myself that the water will be good for the health of the fish around here.  Rain will replenish that which the sun has depleted, and things will get back to normal.  But in the mean time, I sit in the sun room listening to the percussive white noise of rain on the roof and picture better days, dancing line, and healthy fish.

I have thought today about my long distance fishing buddy Steve.  He's been in Alaska for the past few days and I bet he hasn't had to deal with tripple didget heat and no water. He has had one heck of an adventure I am sure, so I choose to sit here and imagine myself standing downstream from him with my backing searing off the reel as one of Alaska's speed boat fish tears downstream with my fly firmly imbeded in its jaw.

I also have four kids who are stuck inside.  This could get very interesting.

I have a tip section of an old broken fly rod that I built a handle on out of old wine corks.  To the tip of this "rod" I have tied a four foot section of yellow yarn.  To the end of the yarn I have made a "fly" out of a foam strike indicator.  In the floor I have placed several plush toy trout that I belong to my son.  Seated comfortably on the couch, we will fish.  if the indicator hits the mouth of the stuffed trout, it is a catch.

Sometimes the liquid of life isn't the stream, or the rain.  Sometimes the liquid of life is improvising with a house full of kids.  Quality time spent honing skills that might pay off when better weather prevails.