|A lone yellow maple along the river|
November days are here, those gray fall days. Most of the trees have dropped their leaves but there is the odd tree here and there still bearing yellow leaves
Despite the overcast skies and a few small olives in the air no fish were noticing them as far as I could see. The day was spent with the nymphing rod. A foam egg behind a heavily weighted anchor fly brought a handful of handsome browns and a pair of rainbows to the net.
Mid day I traded the waders for hiking boots and fished a small tumbling brook. The brook trout swiped at the Royal Wulff but didn't really take it solidly so a switch was made to a small parachute Adams that brought a couple of camera shy brookies to hand.