Rushing waters sparkled and danced, flickering diamonds flowing in smooth jade. Or molten glass or dark green taffy, pulled this way and that by the spinning, whirling world.
Clean and clear as the air that rushed along ruffling our hair and tugging at the fly lines, like a happy child might fluff a doggy's ears.
Chuckling gently over the smooth places, it laughed as loud as a drunken party where the rocks tossed and tore it.
You could see inside the rolling waves as if they were glass cases for mobile morsels of whatever the water found along the flow.
Lovely, peaceful, wild and gleeful, this little river is like a shining light upon the land it bisects.
Before the floods this pretty little stream had sand, gravel, and stones on the bottom and moss and plants lining the bank. It was a nice place for trout and sometimes we caught one.
Now the creek bottom is bare blue limestone, scoured clean by the waters, and the banks sport massive rip rap stones the size of dinner tables, only a lot thicker and heavier.
The many floods that have hit the region over the past decade haven't done much for the trout fishing either. We didn't see a fin. Of course the waters were really moving thanks to spring melt and rains, and the breeze was enough to snatch a fly and fling it right where you didn't want it, so we only fished there for a little while this morning.
It is still a lovely spot though....our favorite little pull off on Route 80 south of Fort Plain...and we had a nice time.
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