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Meditation time

First dry fly trips of the year is like waking up. You find yourself on your knee on a mire. No wind. Sun thaw you up. No action. Almost in a meditating state of mind. Aware of the easy spooked fish. Not making any moves. You just sit there. With tons of theories spinning in your head. Ant? Mosquito? Spring mosquito? Leader too thin? Too thick? Too short? Any thought makes you doubt in your choices. But then again, the ant always works. With or without wings.

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A mouth full

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