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Latest Stories & Essays Articles

Safety First... or Second

As I age, a disturbing fact is emerging: I take more...

Easing Back into Our Old Ways

Ask the trout of Bonnie Brook about their politics and...

Brook Trout and Banyan Trees

Last summer, I was seated on a bench. Not any bench, but my...

Looking Back

The long-handled net leans in the corner of the porch. Our...

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Stories & Essays articles

I Will Dream

Wading to a gravel bar, to a seam where two currents merge into one, I make a cast slightly upstream and mend the line...

False Albacore and True Friends: The Cape Lookout Albacore and Redfish Festival

“Now’s the time to break out that fly rod,” I said to my young fishing partner as he stood in the front of the...

Tell That to the Bass

A flimsy 737 is no match for a thunderstorm. The supercell temporarily closed Toronto International so we touched down...

Golden Morning

Early morning fog is slow to fade as I pull the fly rod from its cotton sleeve. When the sun breaks through the shroud...

The Fighter Still Remains

The previous evening the old man had sat on a bench while watching a black bear, a little one and most likely born the...

Three Rivers I love... and a Lake I Hate

So here’s why I hate the lake. It was a calm morning a couple of years ago and we’d started out on the east end of...

The Shadow King

I first saw the fish the previous summer. It was on a Monday night, Memorial Day. Caddis had begun hatching a little...

Gardenhäckle

Fly fishing is a philosophical pursuit. It is more an approach to life than sport. You find yourself alone on a creek...