Last weekend I went fly fishing for what will probably be the last time of the season. It was a good outing, I went back to the river where I caught my two first ones, but this time no such luck. I got skunked. I thought that maybe the brookies would be up the river where I was since the weather was getting cooler. They weren’t. The air may have been colder than usual but the water temperature still hadn’t dropped enough to get them into spawning mode. I was throwing a terrestrial out but evidently, that didn’t work. I still had fun because I realized the true beauty of fly fishing when I was able to get into that zone where your cast is timed perfectly. I really started to get the hang of it. It was also a beautiful day so that added to the feeling of serenity. There is nothing like watching your line roll out from your rod tip and stop behind you for a millisecond and then accelerate to land ever-so gently on the water. Fly fishing truly is one of the most elegant sports on the planet. At the start of the summer I felt overwhelmed to learn a new method of fishing, but it all worked out and it was all totally worth it. As for the future of my journals, I will continue them throughout the winter, and I will write a full summary of this summer’s fly fishing experiences. 

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