By Nick Simonson

Through the gin clear waters of Memorial Day weekend came the first of a handful of early morning walleyes.  The deep golden sides of one I brought up shimmered in the rising sun which had just crested the eastern shore’s greening treetops as it slid across the surface and into the black rubberized mesh of my brother’s landing net.  While things weren’t fast and furious, the fish were fun to detect on their subtle bites and, with the cooler water, provided welcome and even spirited battles, considering they were walleyes.

The prior week’s rain – and dips to freezing or even below freezing temperatures in some areas – had put the month’s earlier rapid march toward summer on pause and positioned this particular pod of fish warily within the weeds on the small rise submerged just out in front of the cabin. The clear column, not stained yet by summer’s algae blooms, allowed a clean view of the bottom down to almost 14 feet, and at times we would see the white tail trim of a darting fish disappear if we’d drift too close to the sparse stand of cabbage. By casting out into the few emerged stalks of greenery, we were able to entice some bites and repeat the process before breakfast and morning duties on shore called me back.

All around us though, signs of spring’s restart were happening.  A boisterous loon on the water just yards from the boat called out his warning to another which circled us above, wings rapidly beating him around our position as he decided whether to challenge for the small space to the west of the submerged hump where our fish were located.  On shore robins and crows called, bluejays blasted out their morning greeting, which reminded me of my kids fighting off most every school day from their beds, on occurrence which was now in their rear-view mirror (and mine) for a while. Even the trombonish honks of the trumpeter swans could be heard in the distance on some small water behind the treeline on the south shore, and eventually the group of three that resided there soared up and over the tops of the old oaks and out toward wherever their morning feeding would be.

There was no wind and the glass surface reflected the verdant shoreline.  While it made holding position on our fish a bit easier, it likely made catching them in the clear water below a bit harder as we maintained our distance.  While temperatures didn’t soar, seventy degrees and no breeze over the weekend made things more than comfortable, and when work around the cabin and in the yard called to get things ready for the rest of summer, it almost seemed hot.  Overall, it was one of the more pleasant weather weekends when it came to the unofficial start to summer and the Memorial Day Holiday, which in many years has been far colder and wetter, with less successful fishing.

As the days come back into more seasonal alignment, and on those ones when things aren’t as pleasant, any good angler takes it in stride, keeping tabs on where the fish are, how they’re reacting to the conditions, and what’s going on in the world around them.  Seasons may come and go, but the things we observe, from the golden scales of a walleye to the monochromatic dress of a loon, add color and purpose to each day that passes, and every trip we take as things reset and start springing forward again…in our outdoors.