A Very Happy Father’s Day

What a perfect day. Skyla made a special Father’s Day breakfast, then we piled into the car and headed west to explore the upper stretches of some streams that come down the east side of the Olympics. Drove to the end of a steep dirt road and ate sandwiches on the tailgate. Wadered up, tied on dry flies, and and jumped into the river. Skyla, ever intent on her fishing, spent hours in deep concentration.

Weston, as usual, was stoked just to be in waders and walking in the water. When he found a comfy rock, he kicked back and happily watched the river roll by. From time to time, he’d take the rod and make a few casts, but I think he mostly just likes being on–and more specifically, in–the water.

Fishing was slow. But, it hardly mattered. In contrast to my normal manic quest for fish, this was mostly just a day to spend in a gorgeous place, wading new water, hanging out together. On the way home, Weston slept (of course) and Skyla and I chatted and sang along with the stereo. The evening light was beautiful. A very happy Father’s Day indeed. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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