Overnight we turned the clocks forward an hour. This afternoon the temperature on our weather station reached 66F (18.9C). The sun went down an hour later as the clock reads, so Charlie got to play outside longer than normal. The skunk cabbages are emerging.

It feels like we turned a corner and spring is on its way in.

I went out to the upper west branch of the Croton River (the west branch reservoir outlet) this afternoon for a few hours to cast out winter and the cobwebs that have accumulated on my casting form.

I was delighted to see lots of little black stoneflies on the rocks and some tiny BWOs in the air.

A couple nights ago I tried some dry versions of the little black stonefly, hoping that I’d run into some on the river. This pattern comes from Mark Sturtevant and features a peacock body, CDC wing, and grizzly hackle.

I also tied some glass bead dark sakasa kebari and some size 20 CDC BWOs.

I’m glad I tied the dry little black stoneflies. I was rewarded with an 8″ wild brown trout, the average size for that stream. My heart started racing when I saw it take my fly, then immediately dropped when I realized it had spit it out. I took a breath and carefully cast again to the same spot, a feeding lie below where water funneled between two large rocks. The little fish snatched my fly again, and to my delight, I hooked it. I quickly brought it to hand, and just as quickly released it back from whence it came.

My first fish of 2026, on a dry fly no less.

The banks were still icy and the water was 41F (5C), so we still have a ways to go before the sulfurs start hatching, but I’ll take the little stoneflies for now.

The warm sun, when it peeked out from behind the clouds, felt invigorating. The breeze was mostly chilly, but every now and then a gust of noticeably warm air would blow by, and it felt like standing in front of a vent. It was a welcome feeling after this long, cold winter.

I was surprised that there was still so much snow on the ground there in Carmel. Over in Peekskill almost all of our snow is gone. I hiked a little over a mile upstream to fish a section I haven’t fished before, and the trudging was slow going.

A kind whitetail led the way for about a half mile and led me to a shallow crossing before some steep terrain. I was also fortunate enough to see a blue heron out doing some of its own, and a freshly excavated pileated woodpecker feeding hole.

While trudging, I noticed a spot where something had eaten a mallard. I noticed the distinctive feathers right away. I suspect a bird of prey, because there were no footprints around the rocky bear spot littered with feathers. I selected a few subtly barred flank feathers from the scattered remains. Perhaps I’ll tie a few patterns so the duck can return to its river in a different form.

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When I got home, Charlie was happily digging in the garden bed, ready to plant tomatoes and tomatillos. Me too, bud.

Amanda suggested we round out the day by firing up the grill and making hotdogs instead of the sheet pan dinner we had planned. A great idea! If you want it to be spring, you must live like it is spring.

I’m hoping to spend as much time as I can outside these next two days while we have this relative heat wave, before the standard cold, rainy March weather comes back later this week. Perhaps I’ll even get out and entice a couple more trout to rise to my fly.