Photo: Cabot Trail, Cape Breton - taken by author
              A Day On The Margaree


With fly rod in hand and my soul strangely healed,
I struggle through thickets, and then open field.
The river's ahead with its gurgling sound,
And bountiful salmon, for which it's renowned.

As I'm approaching, two men leave the scene.
One is a writer whose book I have seen.
It covers this river; he knows every pond.
"We left them for you," he says, then travels on.

Salmon rivers are pristine, and this is their fame.
The limestone base helps combat the acid rain.
This one's no exception; its waters are pure.
I open my fly box to select a lure.

Some flies are known patterns, and some are my own,
But I've tied every one on my fly vise at home.
It's hard to select one; don't know what I need....
When swimming upstream from the sea, they don't feed.

At last I am ready, and step to the brink.
Cautious and slowly, I wade in the drink.
Using a shrimp pattern of brown and of pink,
I cast it upstream, and then watch it sink.

A flash of quicksilver, and then it is gone;
The King of fresh water's come upstream to spawn.
The strength of this creature is tough and resilient.
Fresh from the sea, its scales are brilliant.

I cast out again just upstream where it rose,
And carefully swim the fly just past its nose.
It makes no response because it doesn�t care.
From what I can tell, to the fish, it�s not there!

I cast out again and again with my line,
But from all indications, this salmon is blind!
I get an idea, and then give it a crack:
And I let the fly line touch and tickle its back.

With this my last hopes for the salmon have died,
For the creature indifferently shrugs it aside.
I turn towards the shore, my legs fighting the current,
Trying not to let failure become a deterrent.

God's plan was to keep salmon safe while they're breeding;
That�s why when they�re spawning, they never are feeding.
My courage returning in pieces and slivers,
I'll try other flies, other pools, other rivers.

I take a deep breath, and then look around,
Marvelling at all of the splendor I've found.
Cape Breton's charm, both rugged and serene,
Is one of the loveliest places I've seen.

         Margaree River, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

                          February 27, 1994
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