Dance of the Mayflies

As the mayflies rise from the water’s surface their dance begins just above the riffles and waves. Up and down up and down they go, first a few, then thousands, then millions appear creating a living cloud floating across the stream. The sun begins to wane as they come to life.

As the mayflies rise and fall, so do the brown trout with their bull heads crashing through the air in an attempt to have a dusky meal. Ripping and tearing at my little brown fly that slowly drifts just below the water's surface. Their dull olive skin dotted in blacks and browns glistens in my net waiting to be set free after being fooled by my wraps of feathers and hair on a size 12 hook.

As the mayflies rise and fall, so do the rainbow trout in an attempt to consume nature's bounty. Streaks of silver, green, and pink flash by not wanting to miss their chance. They tug and pull on my modest leader, angry that this fly is not what they are looking for. As their slippery skin leaves my hand they are on the hunt again for that tasty treat they so desperately crave.

As the mayflies rise and fall, the remaining brook trout blast through the current wanting to get their fill. Beautiful shades of brown, green, and orange can be seen in the skinny water’s shadow. Their small bodies dart and lunge at every little nymph, frenzied by the feast before them.

As the mayflies rise and fall the horizon fills with a palette full of oranges, pinks, and reds. Trees full of spring leaves slowly fade from brilliant greens to shadow gray. The free stone river quiets as the sun fades. Another one of mother nature’s wonders peacefully ends as the day slips away to night and the dance ends.