One Small Trout

If I had to go back to one moment that started me on the writing and photography road, it would be during the spring hatches on Little River.  Back then, I mainly fished smaller streams, finding the fishing easier there, or perhaps I should say the catching.  On this particular day, I had ventured onto Little River proper, somewhere downstream from Metcalf Bottoms.  The goal, of course, was brown trout.

For someone who had rarely caught any brown trout, the opportunity to at least attempt to catch one was eagerly seized upon.  The moment that trout came out is still as clear in my mind's eye as it was when it happened.  In fact I can still show you the exact rock where it happened.  I had just cast upstream along the bank where the current swept down towards an undercut rock.  The fish darted out from under that rock, stared at the fly for a second, and then gently gulped it in.

I was ecstatic but also afraid of losing the beautiful brown.  That fear was enhanced because I was carrying a camera for the first time ever and wanted that picture!  My sister had loaned me her point and shoot. At the time it was a very nice camera, but today most phones have better cameras.  Finally I had the fish corralled.

Nothing was memorable about the fish in terms of size.  In fact, it is probably one of the smaller browns I've caught in the mountains.  On later trips I would catch many fish that could have had this fish for a snack.  There was a moment, though, when everything came together.  The light, the fish, the water, all blended into one golden moment.  

After that I was hooked and started looking for a camera of my own.  Since then, I've taken pictures of many trout, both ones that I have caught and ones that friends have caught, but I'm still waiting on that perfect combination of light and water.  Someday it will happen, and hopefully I'll again have my camera ready.