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Here’s one of my favorite photos from the river. In it, a lone angler stands tiny amid the infinity of a river, while a wall of pines in the background soars skyward.

The alarm blares at 4:30 in the morning and I hit snooze and want to die. This is how I’ve typically started my one-day fishing trips. In the absence of fly fishing friends prior to this year, I had always gone alone, and I couldn’t blame anyone else for the wakeup call. I inflicted the…

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…