Blog by: Lloyd Tackitt 9/6/2018
This weekend my wife and I waded into the Brazos to fish. There's a deep(er) hole against the bank where my uncle Benny used to live, many many years ago. I always think of it as Benny's place, although he passed away several decades ago. It's a great fishing spot. Near enough I can walk to it, big enough to hold a lot of fish, deep enough to be the deepest spot for about a mile either way, but not so deep I can't wade out into it and reach the deepest spots easily enough.
This was the day that this current rain pattern started. We were out there, waist deep, my wife about a hundred feet to my left, dark low clouds above us. Not a breath was stirring. It was what the old-timers in my youth called "pregnant air". Air so still, so thick with humidity...that you know it is about to give birth to rain. I mentioned that to my wife. She gave me the look she always gives me when I say something off the wall. Kind of a cross between confusion and the acceptance of living with a crazy person.
We weren't getting any bites, but it was pleasant enough anyway. The river was a shade cooler than it had been the last time we went out, not exactly warm, not exactly cool. Comfortable. The air was pretty warm though, about 90ish, and the humidity was maxed out. The sun light filtered through and around the dark bottomed clouds and was easy on the eyes. The river was incredibly clear.
There was a school of carp in front of me, must have been over a hundred of them, from five pounds up to twenty-five pounds. They rotated around in front of me with some approaching to within two feet of me. Kind of like standing in an aquarium. They, of course, weren't biting. They never bite unless I bring specially made carp dough bait - and I hadn't. All in all it was a nice outing.
Then to add icing to this cake I saw rain coming our way. I was looking at my wife, something I always enjoy doing but she is even prettier when she is fishing, and way down river I noticed rain hitting the water. I watched as it slowly advanced towards us. I mentioned it to my wife and asked if she wanted to get out but she said she was fine with being rained on.
I kept watching. It was a great view with her in the foreground and the rain coming up to us in the background. When the rain was about a quarter of a mile away I could begin hearing it as the drops were tearing up the surface of the river and hitting the tree leaves on both banks. Then the breeze came, and it was so cool and felt so good. It came a couple of minutes before the rain.
The rain, when it came to us, wasn't all that heavy, more of a light rain, and it was cold water rain. It made the river water feel quite warm by comparison - and it felt wonderful. I watched my wife standing in the river up to her waist, raining falling on her, holding a fishing rod, and thought it was the best thing I've ever seen.
The rain moved on up river and left us behind and I watched as it disappeared up and around the bend about half a mile away. Then another one came and went, and then another.
The fourth rain was heavy and stayed on. Finally my wife said she'd had enough and was ready to go. The fish had not started biting even with the rain so I was okay with going. I did tell her that in my experience rain that ran you off from fishing always stopped as soon as you got home and that if we just waited it would stop anyway. She gave me that look again.
We left and when we got home it quit raining. I smiled, nodded, and told her "See!". She shook her head at me but she smiled the sweetest smile when she did..