What a Difference a Day Does Make

3:10 this morning I awoke to buckets of rain and wind outside my bedroom window.  Scary amounts.  So scary that  I could not go back to sleep because every time I closed my eyes visions of trees blowing down on me and paralyzing me on my walk out or swift over the bank water caring me away then drowning me.  I thought for sure if I did make it back to sleep and woke up at the prescribed 5:15 that when I awoke the conditions would be so scary that I would cower in my bed with the covers hiding me from what was outside my windows that was surely going to kill me.  

It must have all been a bad dream.  I woke with the alarm and sprung out of bed.  It was calm, dry {no rain} and unseasonably warm.  The gear I packed the night before in preparation of the deluge was now obsolete.  I repack and head out with a clean gun and an open mind.  

Of course I'm the only one at the lot, who else would dare hunt the Old Old spot with water levels breaking the 11 foot mark?  I make it to the water and it's worse than I thought.  Think of cilling for the King last year and add a few more feet.  Remember Cliffy and I were there just 3 days ago with the water level at "0".  I wade down the shore in waist high water and find a dry spot on shore to sit and I'm able to drop some blocks about 20 yards.  I do my best to look like a hunter in a blind and settle in.  About 20 minutes into the morning fly a green head bastard thinks there is a party going down, a celebration of the high water keeping the hunters away.  He forgot one thing.  

After giving him some 2 3/4 inch of love he landed perfectly in-between my two little sets of blocks I had set out.  With a little after life kick he swam out 10 yards past my blocks and then dropped his head in shame and passed.  I panicked thinking I just got my first NR in many years.  I make it to the edge of my blocks and tippy toe out to him, but just then the land under my feet started to rise!  The good lord Heston was carrying me!  The rest of the morning fly was pretty good.  Some big flocks of Pinnys, sets of Mallards and some crap ducks too.  Problem was it's pretty light now and I'm pretty visible.  After watching mice that were caught on the point before the flood waters swim back to shore for awhile, with boots full of water, I decided to call it. Maybe with a building permit and a truck load of material a sweet blind could be resurrected.