The only thing in short supply this year has been success. It’s part and parcel of a “too” year; where everything is too cold, too high, too soon, and then suddenly it’s too late.

Shad came and went, and while there was no lack of trying, my entire season was a single hooked fish.

Till now, trout fishing has been every bit as fickle, and with the daytime temps at triple digits, it’s hovering on too high, soon to be too late.

… while the tomatoes are still green and irrigation rampant, there’s plenty of flow in the brown water, which is recovering slowly from last year’s dewatering.

And as we’ve been subjected to thousands of pictures of fins and spots on a trout’s arse – a worthy yet relatively drab foe, it may be time to give some of their scrappy cousins a little choir music, and equal respect.

Fishing being the second oldest profession, it shares some small similarities with the first; the bright bawdy-house colors, obvious contusions and willingness to share themselves with strangers, a welcome respite from the aloof and chaste I’ve been chasing the last six months.

With fish being as sparse as they are this year they’re all worth celebrating, all photogenic, trophies in their own unique way. A healing balm to an angler whose gone without for too long.

Tags: rough fish, fly fishing, brownlining, trout, bass, bluegill, American shad