When I got to this fishing access there was a bevy of swallows swooping down to catch the newly hatched insects. By the time I left, the Yellowstone Pelicans had made a turn deciding not to land just at this particular inlet. Earlier I watched Sandhills doing their courting dance. Fish were jumping. And the fishermen who arrived were happy in that way only an ardent angler can be, anticipating the strike.
Later they told me that the fishing wasn't really very good, but honestly their joy was in no way diminished.
To witness this moment in time is the real catch.
Painting and fishing are not all that different when you break it down.
Both leave you exalted by the experience.