It didn’t look good for fishing but then I glanced over at my wife and she had the “Look”. You know what I’m talking about. The fixed gaze, the shaking hands, the raised pitch in the voice… She beat me down to the water.

We fished hard for about an hour and a half but, alas, some things trump even food (if you know what I mean) and we could not entice a strike.

By the time we decided to call it quits for the day we had tossed a whole lot of hardware and cleared a whole lot of weeds from our rigs but had not landed a fish. Still, we had spent a very pleasant morning in a very pleasant place doing something I already love and something I am happy to say my wife is growing to love.

Man, Oh man, oh man. What a month.

I love this addiction called urban flyfishin’.

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