Friday was more than breezy. Saturday was more of the same. Throw some rain in there and time spent with the family - walking and biking and eating and drinking and eating some more. Not much of a window for hard fishing, and the time that was there proved fruitless for a fly-only (most of the time) kind of guy like me. Haven't broken out the old Penn rod and reel for a while. Sunday was Easter. Church then lunch. Didn't hit the water till 3 or 4. It was less than mid tide, and I decided to not run too far, checking out what my brother and I've called Mullet Creek since we were little. A ways down there's a deep hole, with a bit of an undercut bank that reminds me of a trout stream where a big brown could be hiding, waiting to pounce on a sculpin. Can't see the bottom even with the clear cold water of early April. I hoped for a tug. Out there in God's real church. A big black drum or speck. Nothing.
