Fish are jumpin, and the cotton is high…
Recent sunny and muggy days have drawn me to the childlike romance and innocence of fishing ponds for sunfish and largemouth bass. Warm water opportunities abound in the Midwest. Ponds and small lakes are literally everywhere. This little pond was packed with eager fish chasing dragonflies. They literally jumped out of the water after the bugs. My little popper didn’t quite look like a dragonfly, in fact, one would have to have Timothy Leary eyes to see a size 12 chartreuse popper as anything remotely resembling a dragonfly, but the cooperative fish were abiding by the philosophy “If it is on the surface and moving, it must be food.”
There is an inherent joy to ponds. No pressure or pretensions, plenty of room to cast, and spontaneous laughter when tiny bass come unglued in attempts to eat your popper. I recognized the laugh. It came from the ten-year-old boy within me.
Shallow ponds like these are simply made for the fly-rod. No other form of fishing can deliver food with the little ‘splat’ that drives pond-dwelling fish nuts. The best technique is simply to ‘ring the dinner bell.’
A good reminder that fly-fishing is supposed to be fun. Who cares if I couldn’t remember the Latin name for dragonflies as my shoes squished in the swampy ground and my shirt, pants and hands smelled like fish.
That frosted mug of root beer at an A&W afterwards tasted pretty good too.
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Did you order the "Baby Beer" at the A&W for your inner 10-year-old?
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