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October 22, 2021, 12:03:02 PM

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Pondering the Imponderables

Started by Yallerhammer, October 09, 2021, 19:04:23 PM

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Yallerhammer

Haven't been able to fish for the last month and change due to taking care of my elderly mom who had a stroke, so I find myself sitting around pondering imponderable things. Things like why are native specks so durn colorful and pretty? They live back in inaccessible places, mostly surrounded by creatures that have no artistic bent or aesthetic taste, as far as we know. It seems that they are much more colorful than they need to be to be functional. Even to the point of being detrimental to their survival, because they stand out in the water sometimes. They are a swimming contradiction. That vermiculation on their dark backs is great camouflage, but, that perfect camo is offset by the shocking scarlet and white-edged fins that glow through two feet of water. As far as I can tell, they've been here a lot longer than we have, so it isn't designed for our enjoyment. But I'll take it. It's part of what makes them so fascinating to me, I guess. They are surreal in appearance, like something dreamed of instead of something that actually swims in our streams. And of the millions of them swimming, no two have the exact same pattern. Each one is a unique creation with its own color scheme and assemblage of spots, swirls, and swatches of color.

It seems that they are distilled incarnations of the environment surrounding them. Dark, deep greens from the rhododendrons and hemlocks. Intense oranges and scarlet reds from the autumn leaves that peak about the time they begin to start to really color up and feel the urge to spawn. Golds from the beams of sunlight that dapple through the canopy to land on the water. Purples and indefinable colors from the sunrises and moonlight on the water. Blacks from the deep crevices and shadows and moonless nights. Fins edged with ivory white from the winter snows that blanket the ground. Cold blues from the glaciers that drove them south into these old mountains, and left them stranded here when they receded, and the icicles that still hang dagger-like in winter from the cliffs that brood over the streams where they live.

To semi-paraphrase Norman McLean, I am haunted by native southern Appalachian brook trout.

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Women want me, doughbellies fear me.<br /><br />Little Debbie Prostaff

greg

Sorry to hear about your mother's health troubles. Pretty pictures.


Trout Maharishi

Sorry to hear about your mama, those sure are some nice specks. Wild coloration between fish, where they all from the same watershed?

There's more B.S. in fly fishing than there is in a Kansas feedlot.

Lefty Kreh

Yallerhammer

October 10, 2021, 09:04:41 AM #3 Last Edit: October 10, 2021, 09:06:21 AM by Yallerhammer
Quote from: Trout Maharishi on October 10, 2021, 05:20:18 AM

Sorry to hear about your mama, those sure are some nice specks. Wild coloration between fish, where they all from the same watershed?

Thanks, she's slowly improving.

Those are all from different watersheds, or at least sub-watersheds. Cataloochee, South Toe, Pigeon, Little Pigeon, and Oconoluftee. 

Women want me, doughbellies fear me.<br /><br />Little Debbie Prostaff

Woolly Bugger

Sorry to hear about your mom, I know of the difficulties caring for ageing parents.

thanks for your words and photos, I need to get after some brookies too  <-;:

ex - I'm not going to live with you through one more fishing season!

me -There's a season?

Pastor explains icons to my son: you know like the fish symbol on the back of cars.

My son: My dad has two fish on his car and they're both trout!

Dougfish

Mom stories. We have many.  :cheers

Nice feesh.

"Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change? " -Oddball, 1970

"I don't wanna go to hell,
But if I do,
It'll be 'cause of you..."
Strange Desire, The Black Keys, 2006

Trout Maharishi

Quote from: Woolly Bugger on October 11, 2021, 10:28:13 AM

Sorry to hear about your mom, I know of the difficulties caring for ageing parents.

thanks for your words and photos, I need to get after some brookies too  <-;:

What we should be worrying about is who is going to take care of us?

There's more B.S. in fly fishing than there is in a Kansas feedlot.

Lefty Kreh

Dee-Vo

I'm sorry to hear about your mother. Best of luck to her!

Enjoyed the writing and the photos.


Woolly Bugger

reminded me of this from the Nick Adams Stories by Hemingway.

Quote

He swung the hook on which the two worms curled out over the water and dropped it gently in so that is sank, swirling in the fast water, and he lowered the tip of the willow pole to let the current take the line and the baited hook under the bank. He felt the line straighten and a sudden heavy firmness. He swung up on the pole and it bent almost double in his hand. He felt the throbbing, jerking pull that did not yield as he pulled. Then it yielded, rising in the water with the line. There was a heavy wildness of movement in the narrow, deep current, and the trout was torn out of the water and, flopping in the air, sailed over Nick's shoulder and onto the bank behind him. Nick saw him shine in the sun and then he found him where he was tumbling in the ferns. He was strong and heavy in Nick's hands and he had a pleasant smell and Nick saw how dark his back was and how brilliant his spots were colored and how bright the edges of his fins were. They were white on the edges with a black line behind and then there was the lovely golden sunset color of his belly. Nick held him in his right hand and he could just reach around him.

ex - I'm not going to live with you through one more fishing season!

me -There's a season?

Pastor explains icons to my son: you know like the fish symbol on the back of cars.

My son: My dad has two fish on his car and they're both trout!


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