Caddis on the Branch

Caddis on the Branch
by Scott Nordby

With the sound of the waterfall in the background,the thoughts of work are drowned out by the sound of the fast moving riffle at my feet. Fish are popping, at what I do not know. I don’t see a hatch going on. But still, the fish seem overly aggressive toward their prey. More sounds of birds, wind, and the faint “Moo” of a cow in the distance. I’ve had some success with my Caddis fly tied on. Trying to beat the currents, at least seven different ones in front of where I stand. Not always conquering the limbs, brush, grass and other obstacles. Working hard just to try to fool my prey into believing that my fly is worthy of a meal. But yet, as I quietly leave my spot on the bank, and walk up to retrieve my last caddis fly off the low branch behind me, I don’t think about how peaceful it is, but yet my thought is, “I hope no one saw that lousy cast”. Untangling my line from the brush as I head back to my spot, trying to keep an eye on my prey still popping at those flies. I see him, the one I want. I can only wonder how big he was, or how much of a fight and delight he would have given me.

For sadly, that’s my last Caddis fly up there on the branch!