It has begun. Spring has sprung, and now all we need is a little of this and a little of that, and we can call it ON.

Most conversations among the boys start with “if it will just ______” they will hit the green light, run all the red lights, and we will be swinging sticks again. Now, if it will just rain even a little we can change those water and oxygen levels in the creeks, the Whites and Hybs will start to move in, along with birds of prey, and that smell will rise from the creeks like a hatch of stink. The first time I smelled it in such tight quarters was last year when we had drive in access to a local creek, and we could smell it before we even got out of the truck. It doesn’t smell like dead fish, it smells like fish alive and moving – to the extreme.

The timing of the spring runs also coincides with spring break, and this spring break my SO is heading to Guatemala again on a mission trip. So, I have vowed to go for salt. I warned her yesterday to be prepared for the reggae music to be cranked at the tying desk as I build my arsenal for either the Sabine Pass or Port O’Connor.

On a somewhat brighter note (finally looks like rain today), I was setup to shoot for LK – a new fuel nozzle, and threw in a fly for grins … just to see how difficult it is to photograph flies. Excuse the total lack of excitement, but the image looks just like any other fly photo I’ve seen. This static stuff just doesn’t get fun until one thrashes it around in Photoshop just a bit. Of course my ultimate interest in flies is to photograph them perfectly – wet, in the water suspended or floating as the specific intentions of the fly are taken into consideration. Heck, maybe I’ll even do one of those early ’80′s “splash shots” where the fly is frozen just as it hits the surface (see Edgerton). The most interesting thing about “Clouser1″ is the Negra Modelo bottle cap – in my eye … it’s Monday, and I’m thirsty again.

Clouser Deep Minnow tied on a Mustad Circle Hook in typical Lower Laguna Madre Colors. Only difference – leave all flash off for Lower Laguna Madre.

It’s difficult to hold the train of thought when it is looking at station stops on the Gulf coast, but just throw Lake Whitney in the expeditionary mix as well – Smallmouth Bass heaven in Texas. I want to put another chip on the new fish bingo card, and then maybe I will sleep better after that one that got away last night. I still haven’t heard back from a local who has the record for Smallmouth on Ray Roberts … makes me think.