When wielded with a deft finesse, either the rod or the brush can elicit magical results. One won’t always catch a fish with the rod and one won’t always make a painting with the brush, but it’s an art to just be able to make the cast or make the stroke. The way the line flows off of the end of the rod and arches through the air is beautiful and graceful. The same can be said when the brush touches the canvas or paper and leaves a mark.

I know a little something about one of these and even less about the other but I enjoy the pursuit of either. If I could figure out how to fish or paint from the back of the Harley I’d have it made. I’ve spent a fair amount of time out in the hills both fly fishing and painting and wish I knew more about the fishing part of it.

At one time I was spending more time chasing the elusive trout than I was painting the countryside until my wife kindly reminded me that I make my living from the brush and not the rod.” We have bills to pay,” she said gently. “It’s research”, I countered. My feeble excuse fell on deaf ears. So it goes. I now do the painting first and then wet the fly. That’ll work.

This crazy weather is making it a bit of a challenge to go after either the trout or the painting. I guess that’s spring in Colorado, as they say. Dodging the weather this time of year also makes for interesting motorcycle rides. You know I just returned from San Antonio on the Harley. The whole ride was like a game of dodge ball with the weather. I managed to stay dry for the most part but the wind was hard to avoid. It was brutal at times.

On the way back I stopped in Alamosa for the night. In the parking lot of the Safeway where I had picked up some groceries for supper that night I met a fellow Harley rider who came over to introduce himself and inquire about the little trailer I pull behind my bike. We were chatting about the weather and he said he had ridden down to the Big Bend area earlier, on a mild day in February, and got stuck down there for five weeks waiting for it to warm up enough to ride back home. Spending five weeks in Texas during the winter instead of Alamosa sounded like a bit of well timed planning to me.

Art walk this Friday. Stop by if you get a chance.