Fly fisherman waded into the river this morning. Their focused patience and carefully crafted fishing flies are symbols of a rarely practiced, unique mindset. The water tumbled in a confluence of shallow rapids while they scouted expertly across the river for the best spots.
Whole books have been written on the art of fly fishing -- a meditative sport which combines the luck of place with the skill of touch. Many travel to the great fly fishing rivers in the world to cast and catch fish, or to the local river to cast and cast off their troubles. I pass them while running, while biking, while hiking...they mostly compete while standing in running water.
There is something deeply relaxing watching this sport in practice, along the riverbank, the gentle rush of the river, the sun in mid-morning, and art in practice