I popped out the back door, and there was that young buck. Again. He flipped his tail once or twice, and circulated over towards a brush pile, lurking and, presumably, eyeing me. I flipped whatever was still tied on that pole, and we just looked at each other.
I was standing at the edge of the river, barefoot, shirtless, chatting with Sister on the phone. Making arrangements for brunch. No, Sister was tech support, brunch was a friend. Just looking and moaning about a fish who doesn’t want to be caught.
Time for the “secret weapon,” fluorescent orange worm. Or a bubble gum colored guy. One of those. Wacky rig a worm and see what happens. Usually gets them.
But it hasn’t so far.
So I taught a class this evening, looks like I’ll do it again in a month or so. Lots of fun. The most interesting, spooky even, music came on before we got situated. The Monkees. “I’m a believer…”
Makes you wonder. Amused me. April Fool’s Day, the Monkees and the monk.
But no damn fish.
What’s worse, with Jupiter next to Moon, overhead, I figured a little night fishing was in order. I did get a solid strike with a spinner bait. But no fish. Didn’t get that hook set.
