Where water melds with itself it inscribes a swirl apon it's surface.  It's code is ancient and true.  It has the appearamce of vanilla and chocolaate ice cream infused with one another and in the winter that similarity inthe rich thickness of it's motion.  It's as if the coldm has melded liquid with solid to create an inky blck thick rich substance.  Casting to it you find hope in it's flow  A seemingy eternal hope that know no doubt.  The only questions concern the fish and they are met with a cast.  THere is an immediacy to it like pushing a button and watching the wheels.  Though sometimes there is a certain patient pain we feel on particular fish.  Those are the ones that gratify the angler; the ones that take several hours or a returning day after day to the same fish each tiime building castles in the air hoping that the present day will be the one.  These fizsh aren't easy butt for those who hve learned of he struggle, of he payment to success, these are  the ones that validate it all.  Some water appears empty though we cast to it anyway.  It's like we beleive against all odds and every fire of doubt is put out by the river wateer.  Impossibility becomes possible, the invisible becomes seen, and our journey becomes prosperous no matter how far we must travel.  For some even just a hooked fish stokes the fire.  For we have done something right in our appeal to water and in return religiously respecting it result in great joy.  Last winter was spent actively searching for fishl digging.  And thugh success was  rareity there is somehing about  cold river that makes me proud.  I guess it is the struggle of willing the body to work thrguh the challenge and answering all doubt with a hearty trout are my reason.  That is strength, to doubt yet coninue, question when others don't, intuit to he highest level all he while our feet firmly planted at a rivers edge.  It is a wonder that some anglers get out as much as they do.  With social media and obligation and work, not a lot pf time is left.  Yet some can be found.  And it changes you.  A day on the water is the summit of addiction.  It is a level of love.  Dedication, the wor dthat leadens my stomach.  Theera re always times to fish even if you don't like the winter.  One hemispheres wineter is anothers summers and ones spinng is anothers fall.  Even if ou dont' want to travel that far, winter water gives up fish.  Search and ye will find and when you do your question will be answered.  Bew it one of fish or one of life, curiousities invention arises on water..  It becomes the plkace of calm like a manestary for a monk or study for the studnt  WHen on a river