We watch the weather now, ground
damp, generating life we cannot see,
yet to color cold brown slopes like
crossing frothy mountain streams
to plan each step, eye dot to dot,
timed leaps from rock to mossy rock
to gain the far bank, another perspective,
a new approach to trout. The river
in the sky has changed, exposed
new boulders and cutbanks since
I fished here last, now casting
more to luck than experience.
Heavy oak stumps, my legs lack
a willow’s spring and face the current
on cobbles I can only see with my toes.
drycrikjournal 
This is how I feel right now – people ask me here if it is going to rain because I’ve lived here longer than most, but the river in the sky has turned unpredictable…. I can only offer the lame response to the “is it going to rain?” question with, “I drought it.”
LikeLike
Good to hear from you, Ben. Are you on the North Fork or @ Midland? It’s dry all over and longevity in place doesn’t mean much this year, or last.
LikeLike
I’m here at Midland most of the time. We are getting a little grass growth on north slopes under oak trees, but our steers are not interested in what is growing there – mainly California Brome and some annuals that must not taste good because of oak tannins. I’m feeding alfalfa waiting for the green season and I was over-zealous and planted cover crop over most of the farm that is now waiting for rain. I really thought early January things would change and I’m optimistic about the next couple of weeks, but with a sense that it could be May soon without much rain.
LikeLike
May will be here before we know it, probably with light gains. But our current climate is volatile, anything can happen. I remember stories of 1948 and ‘green grass clean through June’.
LikeLike