Bright orange and gold light the eastern sky well before the sun is even close to showing itself. A streak of blue, growing more dominant as sunrise nears, adds to the majesty. The brisk morning lets the heavy dew live a little bit longer. There isn’t a cloud in the sky. The day ends that way too, only in reverse. Welcome to a Bluebird Day!
Thursday was a Bluebird Day; a day after a weather front passes through, followed by noticeably cooler temperatures and a sky so blue you can see right through it.
If you haven’t ever read Southern author Rick Bragg, you are missing a lot. Yes, guys, it’s okay for you to read it, too. It relates as much to you than anybody else I’ve ever read. His musings about Southern culture, our habits and our lifestyle are unmatched. In Bragg’s Book “Ava’s Man”, he gives mention to a Bluebird Day in reference to a fishing trip with his brother, Sam:
“Then he stared up at a perfect blue sky, a sky without a cloud.
“And everybody knows,” he said, “the big fish won’t bite on a bluebird day.”
I just looked at him, because I did not have a rock to throw. On the one day I outfish him, he is spouting poetry.”
Sounds like some of my fishing partners, except I beat most of them pretty regular so that part doesn’t count. And none of them know any poetry. Sam is right, though. Bluebird days aren’t the best for fishing. The change in weather, rising barometric pressure and just plain old bright sunlight penetrating unobstructed into the fish’s eyes don’t make it the best of conditions. Usually fish bite really well BEFORE the front and theory is that they are too full from that to bite the next day, which is the Bluebird.
However, I must add that I am writing this less than an hour after watching one of my neighbors clean a big mess of fish. Just proves one thing I am certain about in fishing. The fish don’t read all this stuff.
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