After experiencing a willingness to accept the lack of woods skiing and politely usher the “melting”, snow finally made its way through the trees this week.  Now being a person who has significant, unproductive anxiety regarding the potential of a snow pack to disappear over the course of one night’s sleep, I am single-mindedly hell bent on making my way onto it.  This intrusive hum of a recreational worry is a common affliction here in the Northeast. Many a happy-go-lucky winter woods-person has fallen victim to it over the past 5 years of snow uncertainty resulting in a move west, a diagnosable disorder, or failed relationship.

I am counting on the meditative opportunities that fishing provides to alleviate this disorder…that is, of course, unless we have too much or too little rain for the fish to participate.  Or if it’s too hot, or too cold for them to want to move around.  Or…..