Realm Of The Rhythm Watchers

Morning just happened with a start, my spirit suddenly keeping perfect time with my heart. Fall River had completed its natural rhythm school and like a fine Swiss watch I understood the movement of time in my soul and mind.

Lapping ocean waves meandering river glides move wind in timeless coincides. Wind pushing water, warbling bird sounds all about, evening shadows glisten while Father Time sorts it out… All is well in the Realm of The Rhythm Watchers tick tock, tick tock...

LIFE REDEFINED IN INCHES

At or around nineteen hundred or 7pm my wrist takes a sudden jolt unfamiliar, as a healthy 18 inch local resident wild rainbow smacks my #18 Mosquito and we had a wonderful short dance together before photos and adieu! My spirits have been placed in balance and this third good size Fall River Trout has made my day or week? It appears nearly all action as in most waters is in the very early or last two hours of the day. Each of the three wild bows was fooled with 7x tippet and patience. The challenge is to not only fool the fish with nearly invisible tippets, then not let the 16-inch or bigger trout snap the tippet. Best part of this new longer relationship with the River of Dreams is the need to not make mistakes. My fly fisher education here includes relearning old basics like complete line control from fly all the way up to the fly line itself. This intensive course includes basic river navigation, anchor control in at times 15 plus knot winds. I have not ventured more then one mile in either direction in my first three full weeks working the middle, lower area of the river. Within this real estate many coves and weedy spots offer opportunities, as the amount of rising rings early and late indicate a healthy population very close to my cabin. This is my routine so far after 3 weeks. Up at 6am on the water by seven, move around and work a 50 to 100 yard section of both sides of the area. Quit around ten if no action and begin again around 6pm until 8 or dark.

PASTORAL UPPER CALIFORNIA

I have renewed respect for mature watercolor artists every waking moment here in Fall River Mills California. Wild flowers are everywhere in vivid purples with a dash of white and yellow splashed in. The river runs varying shades of green depending on the light, time of day and shadows. One constant sound as I throw lines all morning or late afternoon is the sounds of birds never ceasing their overtures to one another. Because this place is still so new to me, early mornings it’s as if I awake inside a child’s fantasy country playground. It is so perfectly arranged by Mother Nature as to convince one of the existence of an ethereal fish and game committee that must have Monet present at most meetings.

Early on in this quick three-week exposure, it is clear how the natural forces here conspire to mesmerize fly fishers, nature lovers, bird watchers. After an half hour of staring at my fly dive deep into the emerald depths, I do tend to let my eyes wonder and watch the mini dramas going on around me. Three domestic bright pink beaked geese live next door under the tree where the two mature Bald Eagles live. They have been most upset and loud because a flock of wild geese have suddenly landed in their little piece of heaven! As I slowly electric motor out early mornings, all three hefty residents greet me with a concerto that sounds like ten cups being dragged behind a bus. Across the river where a few hundred prized cows pasture, another auditory sonata occurs when the wind is just right. One can enjoy the sounds of countless grass gnawing machines grinding in unison. (Remember that mental picture next time you order a cheese burgher Pilgrim.) One morning a young healthy Robin just outside the window interrupted my slumber with a beak overflowing with bugs he just captured. He was bouncing around in the morning sun by himself making loud noises as if bragging about his breakfast or just loving life.

If any one aspect of this opus of natural delights dominates, it is the diversity, coloration, and numbers of bird species. The owls that live near by in an old barn that stands like a brownish skeleton includes: Pigmy, Barn, and a large Great Horned, I caught a glimpse and captured on film. If only for the birds alone, it would be reason enough to visit this naturalist heaven on the banks of this River of Endless Dreams. One slight personal negative for me is the rising amount of boat traffic as summer comes calling. I must reconcile the idea that others may wish to indulge and gorge on Fall River’s enchantments.

Lesson’s learned the hard way may be the best, one early morning around 7am I suddenly felt a strong hit just as I was about to lift fly line near the boat and throw. It was a 19-inch maybe three pound bow, he made a quick run under the boat before I could let out enough slack for his first good run. He snapped off quickly, I knew in that split second why I loved this sport so much! Even in the act of misjudging and loosing a good fish I was reminded how nothing is ever worked out quite the same in this game, it humbles, it taunts and often the fish win the game.

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“ ADVENTURES OF FLETCHER QUILL “

ILLUSTRATED BY SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE CARTOONIST PHIL FRANK.