The best times are those when you fit in perfectly with nature. It happens once in a very long while. It has to do with how nature is feeling that day and whether you can synchronize yourself with the vibes that nature is emitting.
Yes I know it all sounds very "new age" but it wasn't supposed to. It is just that fishing allows you to be in a much deeper and profound contact with nature. Any fisherman worth his salt has to be able to read those small signs that surround him. This can be a strong wind or being aware of a gentle breeze as it fly's by. It could be, and should be, the color of the water, the types of insects that are around or the way the currents move and curve round underwater objects.
On those rare occasions when you seem to be able to second guess the natural forces that surround you, you do it in what appears to be a subconscious manner. I suspect that it is simply being in contact with yourself and being able to read all those non-verbal communication signals around.
Most anglers will have a day like this when everything they did reflected a perfect response; when they were able to exist in perfect harmony. And when these days do happen they leave something inside us, not just a memory but a sensation of "it shouldn't be otherwise".
And then what we all try to do is to replicate our mood and feeling with nature; but it is not easy to bring this up again at will because not only must we feel and intuit, but nature has to be in the right mood to cooperate. But this never stops you from trying.
Ten or twelve years ago a three of us went trout fishing to "our" streams up in the mountains somewhere in South America. The trip in an old an battered jeep played an important part in getting into the right mood.
In the early morning we managed to see many wild rabbits, which was unusual. Then sitting on a fence by the side of the road (I use the word road with exaggeration) an owl watched as we got closer. It suddenly spread its wings and slowly began to beat them as it arose flying in a straight line right in front of the windshield. Its wing span must have been about six feet - unless the thrill I felt made me lose all concept of reality.
We reached the river and started fishing. Soon each on of us went his own way. I reached a small secluded pond and in short order caught 13 trout. I had never done this before, not out of the same pool.
I spent most of the day alone, a day that holds my trout catching record but more importantly the day that nature was supremely giving. In the early afternoon I noticed the small herd of cows that were grazing across the river bank, move closer to the edge. I can see them in my mind as their enormous eyes stared at something in the water. I looked and saw a tapir, the size of a small pony swimming down the middle of the river. It just stared back at me as it passed. A tapir is a mammal the size of a pony that appears to be a cross between a pig and a cow (without the horns, etc). It is natural to the South American rain forests and surroundings.
I finally collected my stuff, put it into my fishing tackle boxes and brought back with me the memory of a day in which nature showed me how to bond.
Philip Robinson is happily married fisherman and a father of five. He has various on line projects and you can visit his latest website on fishing tackle boxes. As someone with a large family he focuses on fun, creativity, making ends meet and all in a loving environment.
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