Fly fishing is an art. And also a liftime journey of learning.

I miss the wilderness on skis and on horses.

Alas, my knee and hip limit my ability to reach farther and higher.

But a wilderness passion has been calling me for years.

Montana’s rivers, creeks, and streams.

I have crossed them on horses with the dogs finding their way.

I have listened to life rolling over bolders on its way to the plains.

But to stand and balance on the smooth rocks, mastering the cast.

All in the shoulder, not the wrist.

Twelve o’clock high, pause for the snap, stop when parallel.

Practice again and again.

I did not walk away dry.

Nor with a fish.

Good as releasing seems also an artful education.