The river rolled over boulders and cut through the sounds of the afternoon so all I heard was its powerful consistency roaring in my head. Listening to the song I took one more cast and one more look at the water I had fished downstream that continued on through the canyon, then I walked up the embankment to my truck and drove along the river towards my house or back towards the water churning in my head. As I drove I caught glimpses of the river and of the day’s fishing trying to think of a lesson I could take away. I had fished hard with no fish to show for it. There was still time left. Should I fish all day?
