It's the quiet peacefulness of a small river or stream, uninterupted except for the sounds of wild animals and insects.
It's the excitement of rounding a bend in a new river to find a perfect pool with fish rising on a hatch, matching a fly, and hooking a wild brookie.
It's the heart pounding danger of wading a river that is just a little too fast and a little too deep to get to the other side, but braving it anyway and getting across.
It's the silent companionship you experience with other fly fishermen, where a nod and a smile goes a long way, and all that it takes to make a friend is asking "Any luck?"
My passion for catching fish is eclipsed only by the fish's passion not to be caught.