I was on my way home and I only had a small amount of time to wet a line. The sun would be gone in half an hour so I had to act fast. I picked a spot closest to my house out of convenience and to save time, although I knew from scouting it on a regular basis that there were only 4 or 5 trout left in the 100 yard section I would have access to. They were rainbows that were still holding over from the stocking three months ago.
There was no time for waders, and I chose a small tan bugger. Stockies are stupid and will typically chase them across the stream.
I slid down a steep bank and hopscotched across some wet rocks to a spot where low hanging branches wouldn't annoy me. My feet got a little wet but there was no time to think about that. I stripped line as fast as possible and rocketed a cast. The bugger had a splashly landing about an inch from the opposite bank.
I started to strip line and I noticed a dimple. Then another. Then another. There were at least two, maybe three fish in the back corner of the pool, sipping on size 20 tan midges in slack water. I pulled the bugger in and started to string up some 7x tippet. As soon as I got a fly tied on, my phone rang. My son was sick and fatherhood waits for no one. I sulked away, back to my car, sadly watching those fish continue to sip. There's always tomorrow. Maybe.