Bring on the Sun!

Last week saw the first day of the year I could drive with my sunroof open, a moment you could interpret as a symbol of many springtime notions that seem to transcend cultures across time, like awakening, renewal, or fertility. But for me, it suggested the return of ease.

Winter, by contrast, is devoid of ease. The fishing is harder. A raft of cold-weather variables plays into the calculus of whether to actually hit the river. Will a snowstorm bury me? Should I drive three hours even though the frigid cold demands frequent breaks from wading?

It’s not that the winter prevents me from fishing entirely. I still hit the water, just less frequently. Even then, arriving at that decision feels encumbered.

The foliage is a backdrop to scenes of taught lines and arcing rods, where by day, untamed water rushes your knees.

But I’ll admit that with the warming weather, my excitement has returned, rooted in the possibility of fishing right now, in this very moment if I wanted to. Free from lumpy coats and frosted windshields, it’s easier to get outside. You feel nimble.

The nascent mildness of the season greases the wheels of every decision to leave the house. And just as this newfound ease emerges, the days get longer, a phase in a larger cycle of sunlight governing the upcoming fishing season.

The light grows with spring, crests with summer, and wanes with autumn. It drives the lifecycle of the leaves, which bud and later fall. The foliage is a backdrop to scenes of taught lines and arcing rods, where by day, untamed water rushes your knees, and by night, fireflies beam rhythms in a language all their own.