Sometimes you have to tap them on the shoulder

I froze. The carp had materialized out of nowhere, one rod length in front me with its face buried in a clump of grass. I watched as it oared backwards and settled to the bottom. Its mouth and gills kept moving, like a cow chewing its cud. I was too close to cast, so I slowly pulled in the fly line, leaving about two feet of Tippett hanging out of the guides. Then I reached forward and tapped her on the shoulder. Moo,Moo.



I had been standing still for so long I was sure I was sinking. The shoreline seemed to be getting higher. I was surrounded by spawning carp. Groups of three and four at a time splashed around me, only spooking when they bumped into my legs. I waited...looking for a single. A pair dashed by on my left, a threesome cavorted on my right. Then, directly in front of me...a single tail. A hungry carp. Good thing I brought some hemostats.



I studied the three dark shapes up against the shoreline. The middle fish was noticeably bigger than the other two, but a cast to the big one would risk lining his two buddies. I studied the angle, weighed my options. I could surely catch one of the other two fish...slightly ahead of the middle guy. Or I could blow all three aiming for the big fish. I would only get one cast at at the middle fish, and maybe two or three at the other two. Stared and thought. In the end, I only needed one cast. 20 lbs.



Three out of about 15. The rest are fading into bits and pieces. A tail here, a pounce there. So much to see on the water.