To Spring

[ozark trout fisher]

As I sit here typing this, there are still 3-4 inches of snow blanketing the ground around my house, but the bite of cold air was missing today for the first time in weeks. The temperature today reached a glorious 38 degrees, and it's only going to get better. Tomorrow it's supposed to be 45, and the next day 50. There is not a single day in the 10 day forecast that is predicted to have a high of less than 45 degrees. Given the fact that it's mid-February already, I am beginning to wonder if this is just a winter thaw or the real deal-an early beginning of spring.

It's easy to let hope of that run wild. It has been the hardest winter Missouri has seen in at least a decade, and possibly longer. Most winters around here there is snow on the ground for a fair percentage of the time, but not many days have gone by since mid-December when there hasn't been at least several inches of the white stuff on the ground. And we have had several nights where the temperature got below freezing-just yesterday the thermometer registered -4 just after dawn. So with some above average temperatures on the way, it can really set one to wondering if Old Man Winter has finally let go of his grip. Honestly, that's probably not the case. We'll have some more cold days, and possibly even some more accumulating snow. But the thaw is beginning, and in any case, spring isn't very far off.

And spring in the Ozarks is a wonderful thing. As soon as we get our first warm spring rain, which usually occurs around the first week of March, the bass and bluegill awake from a three month long sleep. The first warm-water fishing of the year is inconsistent, and usually pretty hard work, but it can be very rewarding. The first bass or bluegill of the year is always a cause of great celebration for me.

Then about late March, the wild flowers and the dogwoods bloom, and the trees bud out. This is a truly magic time of year in Missouri. The world is so full of color, so alive after seeming so dormant for so long. No matter how many springs you have seen, each one feels like the first, and this season of the year makes you feel more alive than at any other time. And by now the fishing is in full swing. The bass and bluegills are starting to take topwater flies in the evenings, and they are eager to take subsurface fare all day long. The air is supremely comfortable, neither hot nor cold, and the world seems pretty much perfect in all respects.

Then it comes toward the beginning of May. All the trees are leafed out now, and the Ozark forests have begun to resemble a jungle, thick with all manner of underbrush. The fish have begun their spawning now. The bass are on their beds, and you get to see some of the largest fish of the year, right in front of your eyes and vulnerable. But I don't fish for them, for both fishery reasons, and just because for some reason I've felt pretty cheap the few times I have ripped the big female bass off their beds. But that ethic, at least for me, vanishes when it comes to the bluegill and redear that live in the ponds near my home. They are pretty easy to tempt with any manner of small wet fly, nymph, or streamer, and the big ones fight like good sized bass on my light fly rod. When I keep them, their fillets are crisp and delicious.

Then there is the spring trout fishing. Spring can be the best and the worst time for trout fishing in Missouri. At it's best, spring fishing can offer some of the best hatches of the year, particularly caddis and olives, and the water temperatures will be perfect for the trout to be feeding actively. When this happens, the fishing is nothing short of glorious, and can produce the kind of days that you'll never forget. At it's worst, spring trout fishing can be non-existent, with the very real possibility of high and muddy water. But the good days usually make it worth it.

The truth is, spring is not really a season, but a time of transition. The early part of it still seems like winter, still cold and dreary, but it slowly transforms into the time of budding flowers, dogwoods, spawning bluegills, and a great sense that the world itself is awakening from the great sleep called winter.