Notebook

Northwest Fly Fishing Magazine

Sun, 27 Jun 2010 07:47:23 -0700

This is something I wrote for Northwest Fly Fishing magazine. It included step by step directions for tying the Skate’n Fool. To subscribe go to matchthehatch.com

Change is good and on the wind...

Thu, 4 Mar 2010 06:33:43 -0800

Wind moves the leaves yet I can not see it coming. It slips in silently, the warm breeze of summer. Soothing, caressing and comfortable.

Soon it will carry cooler fall air and turn the trees into works of art. Bits of color will brighten the forest and the low lands will take on the look of an artist’s pallet.

Then in winter the wind gets serious in it’s work, bringing ice and darkness to the land. Snow blankets the mountains and the taste of it is carried on the wind. It cuts deep into my very soul, I feel it, yet still I can not see it.

Somedays it brings a promise. A warmer breeze that speaks of spring and the changes it will bring. Change is good, and on the wind.

Skeena Bear

Sat, 7 Nov 2009 06:39:37 -0800

The bear awoke from a short nap, the sun filling his eyes and warming him. He was hungry but not as hungry as he had been. The small salmon had returned and he had been there to greet them. He had eaten his fill and now rested in the wood near the small stream that fed into the big river. Soon the big salmon would come and again he would eat. He hoped it would be soon as winter was on the wind and snow would soon cover the ground. He wished to be sleeping those cold winter days away in his den up the hill from the river, far from the sounds of man. He had shared the river with man and he did not trust them. He did not like the noise they made. He did not like their smell.

He rolled onto his feet and walked to the edge of the high bank overlooking the big river. Man, there in his river. He carefully walked down a fallen log to where the river had been but all that was left was a small puddle and a few dead fish. The ravens were fighting over the remains but the bear was not interested. The river now ran low and much of his fishing grounds were nothing but stones. Where the river was, there was man. What was he doing in the river? The bear moved slowly so that he would not be seen.

Back up the log and onto the high bank the bear went. He found a well hidden sunny spot and sat down against a tree to watched the man. Overhead an eagle called and an Osprey answered. The bear could see the Osprey high over the river just upstream from the man. Suddenly the bird dropped from the sky crashing into the water. The bear watched to see what he had caught but the Osprey flapped its wings unable to gain flight. Drifting toward the man the bird was trapped to the river by the weight of a fish too large to lift. Finally after several failed attempts the bird released its catch and regained the air. Moments later another dive with better results. The Osprey flew off with a smaller fish leaving the bear to watch the man.

What was he doing? The man waded to the shore and walked to where the Osprey had lost its big fish. The bear could see the man bend over to look at something in the water. What was he doing?

The man stood and started to walk toward where the bear was sitting. In his hands he carried a salmon with blood running out of the talon marks in its’ back. The bear did not move. He was well hidden on the high bank and was sure the man could not see him. Still the man walked closer.

At the base of the fallen log the man lay the fish then walked back to the river. The bear watched as the man waded into the river again. Overhead an eagle called and the Osprey answered. The ravens were fighting over old fish as the bear took the salmon back up the high bank to his sunny spot near the tree. He did not trust the ravens, and he did not like the way they smelled.

As Jimmy Buffett would say.... it’s a semi true story, believe it or not. I made up a few things and there’s some I forgot... Cheers, Joel

I saw the owl tonight

Thu, 1 Jan 2009 16:27:29 -0800

I saw the owl tonight. He was resting atop an oak that had died many years ago from fire and age. His silhouette against the fading light emanated both wisdom and curiosity. “Who?” he asked.

“It is I” I replied. “A weary angler seeking a brief moment of private contemplation at the end of the day. I come here to the river’s edge to remember the day that is fading and to reminisce about friends and family that no longer walk this earth.”

The owl moved his gaze away from the river and turned my way. “Who?” he inquired.

“Far too many to name in one evening” I told him. “It seems that as time and the river flow old friends pass into memory. I come here to remember them, to refresh my memories and brush away the dust that time has clouded them with.”

The owl continued to look my way. “Who?” he insisted.

“Anglers, poets and friends” I answered. “People that shaped my life. Elders that shared their experience and wisdom. Friends that shared a journey. All have come to mean so much to me yet time tries to fade their memory like the passing day before us.”

The owl was silent. He understood my answer and turned to take in the last light of the day.

“I look forward to the morning” I said as I stood to leave. “Another day on the stream and a chance to make new memories. An opportunity to share my gathered wisdom and stories with new friends.”

“Who?” my feathered friend asked as he turned to watch my departure.

“I’m not sure,” I replied as I started up the trail “we’ve not yet met.”

I saw the owl tonight down by the river and we talked of anglers, poets and friends.

About this piece...
I wrote this several months ago and sent it off to my good friend Bob Wethern for editing. Bob had been reading over my work for many years and I'll have to say he was pretty good at pointing out my writing flaws. Well to my surprise this piece came back without the usual red pencil marks, it was fine "as is" he said. Of course he forwarded it on to the editor of our club newsletter for publishing. I requested that the piece be held for awhile so I could work on it but I really had no intention of changing it. I never told Bob I wrote it for him. I never told him I wrote it for this day. Bob Wethern passed away yesterday and I shall miss him.

Bob had just finished editing the North Umpqua Creel this past year for the Fly Fishers' Club of Oregon and counted it as his greatest achievement. It truly is a masterful work and something that the club can be very proud of. That project kept Bob going and I think it added several years to his long and productive life; but his greatest achievement was not a written word, it was the love and dedication he shared with his lovely wife Gwen.

Until we sit together beside the river and watch the fading light of day, travel safe my friend.

Bulkley River Moment

Thu, 2 Oct 2008 21:33:15 -0700

The trees are on fire along the Bulkley River, yet no smoke fills the evening sky.
These flames have been lit by the season and the cool night air. Bright yellow and orange they burn, the intensity increased by the setting sun. The building storm fans the flames and they dance and flicker.

Now as the light fades the storm winds lift the embers into the sky.
Swirling like mad bees they gather in clouds rising up and up. The wind stops to catch it’s breath and these glowing embers fall to the river. The water does not extinguish the flame and now the river flows like molten gold.

A fly cast upon these waters can not find passage into the depths with the surface on fire. I sit to watch and photograph with my mind, burning the image into memory. Film can not capture this moment, only my eyes and heart. It is truly a wonder of the season and of this place.

October 2nd, 2008
Bulkley River near Smithers, BC