Yesterday morning I stood out on the deck watching the day begin. Mid-August, 41 degrees, I was barefoot, wearing pajamas under a heavy robe and enjoying breakfast while Gabbi patrolled the perimeter of the yard. A cup of one of those hearty granola cereals drenched in ice-cold milk, and topped with a handful of fresh raspberries, seemed perfect. Strong coffee to follow. By afternoon the temperature would rise to 80 and a strong wind would bring a thunderstorm.
It’s easy to drift into a contemplative mood, sort of melancholy, on a morning like this, waiting for the sun to rise over the treetops. I don’t tend to look back at the past much, certainly not to dwell on it, but sometimes you wonder how life might have been had a different route been taken or another answer been given. Mostly, though, I think about more down-to-earth things: like how musician friends and poets make a living with no other visible means of support. Or how about a couple of those deck boards that soon need replacing. Or why did I miss so many birds at the skeet club last week? You know, stuff like that.
The fly fishing for smallmouth bass on Vermilion has slowed way down, as it does every summer. They go deep, they fill up on crawfish, they become nocturnal – I don’t know, I’ve never gotten a good handle on it. And the last two river outings have been nothing to brag about, either. Four decent smallmouths on the St. Louis, a half-dozen on an un-named flowage. Most on streamers.
But Karr Lake, only a few minutes from home, has a healthy and eager population of bluegills along with some decent largemouth bass. All sixty-nine acres of lily pad covered shoreline are just right for a small boat or canoe and I seldom see anyone else there. Except for Pastor Don. The good pastor is a neighbor and enjoys padding his beautiful wood/canvas canoe on the lake early mornings. Probably helps him come up with a meaningful sermon for Sunday service. Whenever he sees me out there, he paddles over for a chat. He’s good company.
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My bluegill poppers are all close to the same. Most of my fly-tying material is mail order, and I received a pack of yellow deer hair I wanted for some bass bugs. But the hair is frustratingly short, too short for the large poppers I wanted to tie, and I nearly tossed it away. Instead, I marked the bag “short" and stuffed it in my materials box. Turns out it works fine for a small bluegill popper. It’s a quick tie: two small clumps of hair spun on the hook, no stacking or packing, and a disk of foam on the face. A quick trim job and it’s done.
Even when the bite is slow the bluegills are a pretty reliable source of fun, and there’s always the chance for a surprise largemouth. Good fishing!
