What a beautiful morning. Several days ago, I was sitting on top of my one man pontoon boat, alone on Anderson Lake. I had caught and released a couple of nice rainbow trout. There is something spectacular about being the only human on a body of water, lake, or stream. The nice thing about a pontoon boat is that while you are positioned off the water, the water is literally inches from your seat. The craft opens to the water between the two pontoons. On that particular morning the world seemed especially peaceful. There were several swallows and a large number of purple martins (similar to swallows) swooping around the lake acquiring their breakfasts. Early in the morning there were a number of other birds as well, including a magnificent bald eagle tormenting his friend, the osprey.

To a fly fishers delight, the morning hatch of bugs had begun. The bugs du jour that morning were chironomids, or better known as midges. The midge starts its life as an egg, transitions into a larva, then into a pupa. When nature calls, the pupa rises to the surface encapsulated is a bubble of gas which provides the buoyancy for the ride to the surface. Once the pupa breaks through the under-surface of the water, it begins yet another transition. At that point, this mosquito-like insect crawls out of its shuck. It sits atop of the floating shuck for a few seconds drying its wings. Then, the adult insect begins its first flight into a new life doing what insects do — making more insects. It is during these transitional phases and especially the emergence to the surface, that the insects are the most vulnerable to trout. I found it interesting that the midges in this lake were exceptionally large.

I literally had a front row seat sitting there on my pontoon boat watching this spectacle of nature. One particularly large midge emerged in the water between my feet. It was great watching it pop to the surface extracting itself from its shuck. Soon it began its slow flight up and a little towards me. It literally flew about two feet in front of my face so that I could examine the fine points of its wings and body. Engrossed in my face to face nature lesson … bang, unbeknownst to me, a purple martin flew at what seemed to be mach speed from my right side and inhailed the new born! Both were gone in an instant…

While no stranger to this cycle of life, I must admit that this event made an impression on me. Sure, adolescents are accused of living with invincibility and immortality. But you know, so do we adults. I recently heard a woman comment that she can’t image the world without me in it. It don’t believe her notion is so much a statement of her arrogance, as much as it is her detachment from her place in the natural world. The human race has a long history of neglecting our place in nature. Historically, we have so elevated ourselves that if we are not very careful, we too, like the small midge, may rise to a level of annihilation. Each of us have a decision to make. Do we live as stewards or consumers of our earth? A client of mine just last week was lamenting how “something is happening”. He went on to provide a long list of critters which are missing from his property this year. On this list were various birds, frogs, and mammals. Granted, his may be an isolated case. Or perhaps it is not. On a broader scope, the states of Oregon and California have closed down the salmon fishery on their coastal waters due to depressed numbers of fish.

It is everyone’s role to provide good stewardship. If not we too may experience the plight of the midge. Swoop…GULP!

Here’s to Growth,

Tim