Seasonal Turnover

A Brown Drake mayfly imitation, posed with the real thing.

As the fishing report I linked yesterday showed, changes are afoot in the river world. The early season flies have run their course for the most part, and we're moving into the big bugs of early summer: Gray Drakes, Brown Drakes, Isonichias, Giant Stones, and, a few weeks from now, Hexes. This means it's time for the pleasant task of reordering my dry fly box.

Normally, I shun maintainance tasks to the degree it's possible. I can live with high grass on my lawn. I clean my office "when I have the time," which seems to be at the end of the semester. I'll skip shaving a day or two a week, and would forgo it entirely if I didn't look ridiculous in a beard. When camping, going three or four days without a shower doesn't phase me (so much for invitations to campouts...). The exception to this is maintaining my flies and fishing gear.

I don't carry every fly I own on the stream, though there are people who do. About three times a season, I'll remove from my dry fly box flies whose time is done, and insert the flies coming into season. Usually I guess right, though I've been caught unprepared a few times. Removing the old and putting in the new is a evocative chore, stirring memories, hopes, and reflections on the passing of time. I'll think of fish I caught on flies I remove, or about hatches I hope to see of the flies I insert. Putting away my Hendricksons for the year, I'll think, this May of chilly sunshine, sudden raindrops, and sweet blossoms is gone, and you'll be a year older and a survivor of God knows what before you see another.

With the weight I attatch to these dry flies, it's a wonder they float.