Blown Out

White water tumbled down the shale cliffs. The flow from the hidden feeder creeks above the river added to an already swollen river. Tall pines stood sentry over the run that had turned sandy brown overnight thanks to the steady rain. The green needles of the pines were almost transluscent in the mist.

Gray and brown were the color of the day, except for the pines and pachasandra, which had gotten a jump on spring. The light green pachasandra covered the near bank and looked as if it was ready to take over the entire forest.

We were trying to fish some private water on the East Branch of the Chagrin River. But the overnight rains had disrupted those plans. We checked out a few runs and riffles and half-heartedly through wolly buggers against the bank. We expected nothing and got it.

Visibility was less than a few inches, but the sand and gravel under my wading boots told me that this would be an ideal location to find spawning steelhead in a few weeks. Perhaps we'll have a chance to return when the river will be green like the pachasandra and pines, rather than brown like the dead leaves covering the forest floor.