I suppose you could blame it on the cold. This winter has been particularly frosty, with consistent temperatures below freezing, and wind chills reaching as low as -28 degrees. I had fully planned on going fishing. I had my gear all packed and stowed. I had tied flies the night before. I had even lined up the babysitter to watch Willie. What I hadn't accounted for was the deep psychological effects that a solid month of freezing cold would have on my psyche, and I just couldn't wrap my head around the idea of standing waist deep in spring water shivering away. And so, in a last minute audible, my second fly-fishing outing since Willie was born instead became a slightly warmer birding outing.
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| Tying flies while the baby's sleeping. |
