Always take time to smell the roses.

 Last Tuesday night I was standing on the BE shore looking for a rise when I heard the first toad of the year start to sing.  On the way back to the "Lordville Estate" the road was covered with toads on their way to the river. Wednesday night found me on the BR where the toads were in full voice. After fishing I sat on the porch with my perfect Manhattan just listening to the sound. Thursday found me back on the EB where there was a toad every two feet along the shore each one singing it's heart out. The sound was deafening. I've always loved listening to it. ( It might be worth noting that I'm tone deaf and also love the smell of Off bug repellant). 

My Monday morning was filled with appointments and I didn't get on the road until noon. First order of business at the fishing camp was to mow the grass. Didn't set out for the WB until four. By then most of the boats and wade fishermen had departed. Fished a couple of hours and caught one eleven inch rainbow on a Hendrickson (took the Hendrickson box out of my vest tonight). About 6:30 I reeled it in and drove down 17 to the EB where I encountered a modest hatch of both gray foxes and sulfurs, along with quite a few black caddis.  The hatch, while not prolific by any means, seemed sufficient to get the trout up.  Obviously they had better things to do. Ended up landing about half a dozen fall fish and one beautifully colored 18 inch rainbow.

On my walk back up the shore to the car I stopped to listen, not a single toad was singing.

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