
Beaver Attack (and the wildness of spring)
I’ve been spooked by beavers enough to know that a beaver, while by nature a shy industrialist, doesn’t mess around. This afternoon, between meetings — the last one being with
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I’ve been spooked by beavers enough to know that a beaver, while by nature a shy industrialist, doesn’t mess around. This afternoon, between meetings — the last one being with
It’s a spring snow, not a winter snow, or a first snow: Just a wet inch or two of snow. So…that’s a spring snow, and it’ll be gone by this
It’s the weekend of the fly-fishing show, which means it’s been a year since sh$# got real, as they say. No fly fishing show this year, which, if I’m perfectly
Fish enough, and you’ll see some weird things. Today, one of Matt’s boat-mates hooked a three-foot floating weed with his streamer. While the streamer/weed combo was being retrieved — presumably
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