Picking them off

I was on the Eastern shoreline of a small lake that we sometimes fish.  For my last minute day off from work,  I had been blessed with mild sunny weather.  It was April,  and the blue sky was dotted with drifting puffy white clouds. There was a slight Northerly breeze.  Just enough to ripple the crystal clear water.
The fish were small. Tiny in fact. Last year’s stocking had clearly been a success,  and as a result we would have to put up with these ankle biters until following seasons,  by which time the fishing would no doubt be superb.
For now,  I was content. So what if the fish still had parr markings. They were ‘on the prod’,  and the alternative would have been to be at a desk with a computer and an incessantly ringing phone.
The fish were feeding for sure,  but I was getting more “bangs and wriggles”  than I was Rainbows.  I had on a #12 Red Eyed Damsel which the fish were chasing for sure,  but they were really only connecting with it when I stripped it back fast.  It reminded me of the method I had deployed the evening before go get my daughter’s kitten to chase a pom-pom. The fish were of similar size and disposition! But this was no way to fish a damsel imitation,  or anything else for that matter.
I reeled in and walked on down the pretty rocky shoreline.  This place has the look and feel of a Scottish loch. It is as good a place as any to take a stroll to unwind on your day off. Further along,  I sank into the thick grass and busied myself with the connection of a little dry fly.  A “DHE”.    I greased it up well and then teased the deer hair fibres apart again,  to restore it’s buggy spiky look.

Then I sat back in the veld and waited for a fish to show.  A few fish had been showing on the surface,  but certainly not many.  It was a fair wait. Fifteen minutes perhaps.  Fifteen unwinding minutes of not casting,  and just taking in the view.  It was exactly what I needed.
Then a fish swirled. I covered it quickly and landed it,  returned it,  and sat back in the grass to dry the fly.  No casting.
After a further ten minutes another fish moved,  and I repeated the single cast regime,  with the same result.
And another.
Sniper fishing! 
I can recommend it.