The nights and mornings are slowly cooling down and we just hit peak fall foliage here in Eagle County. I wonder if J. R. R. Tolkien ever visited Colorado because when the sun hits the leaves just right, it looks exactly how I picture Lothlórien.
Fall is a reminder that everything ends, but it’s a beautiful end indeed.
When I was back in New York fly fishing last week, the smells of autumn from my youth came rushing back like a friend at my front door whom I hadn’t seen in ten years. It was surreal to feel something old that was new again, and I took in memory and time with a single breath.
Witnessing the effortless descent of leaves into the river made the entire journey worth it. As we floated past, I almost felt as if disturbing them was sinful, although I had to catch one before it hit the water because as a kid, that was tradition.
Wind on the Delaware River is a friend to no fly fisher. So much in fact that we just call it “Wanda” or “W” because we don’t want it to know what we’re talking about.
This trip was different. It’s almost as if the river knew I was coming and wanted to impress me. We fished early one morning and as the fog was burning off a bald eagle was perched on a dead tree almost posing for us; show off.
Fall has always meant a great deal to me and I truly do love every season, but there’s just something about it.
Seasons collide after the first snowfall. Mother Nature warns its creatures to pack on the ounces (or pounds) before food becomes more scarce. Otherworldly colors entrance us as one season transitions to the next.
Oh, and the trout aren’t bad looking either.
Perhaps fall is also a time to reflect on another summer season come and gone or maybe it’s just the beginning again.
Mayfly Musings 
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