There have been a number of times while fly-fishing I have had the opportunity to fish alongside or near a heron. From those experiences I have formed the belief that the heron is the fly-fisher within the world of birds.

Have you ever really watched a heron fish?

Heron’s possess several similarities with the fly-fisher. Just as we do, the heron wades the river, stream, or pond in search of fish. Once a lie is found to fish the heron remains motionless, just as we try to do. The heron reads the water only moving head and eyes and likely we try to read our water without spooking our potential combatants. The heron’s head is at a forty-five degree angle as the fly anglers rod usually is. If fish are not found in this particular spot then the heron moves a short distance upstream or down – a basic rule with fly fishers also. Sometimes, when no fish are found, the heron will take flight and move to an completely different stretch of water and we, as fly-fishers, should remember the Chinese proverb, “If the fish are not biting in one place, then move to another”.

Heron’s are also considered graceful creatures. Fly-fishing has been described to be the same. Indeed I must admit the one thing, years ago, which attracted me to discover fly-fishing was the beauty and gracefulness of the sport.

Heron’s have yet another ability that is a similar with us who fly-fish but takes us a long journey to discover…consider the patience of the heron.

Many times while fly-fishing on Blue River I’ve had the opportunity to watch the heron. Standing seemingly as an inanimate object the heron waits the right moment. Indeed herons will stand stoic for long periods of time paying never mind to all activity around and owing patience only to how nature made them. Patience may be a virtue and for the heron it is also a necessity.

Whenever I’m introducing a newcomer to the world of fly-fishing I tell of the three “P’s” of fly-fishing - practice, persistence, and patience. I know very well that practice and persistence will come rather easily but the same doesn’t hold quite true for experiencing the discipline of patience. The patience discipline comes difficult for most of us…as it has for me.

In our fly-fishing lives there are stages, just the life stages of being human. When we first discover fly-fishing we are newborns, childlike in our endeavors of trying to capture fish. As newborns our eyes open to a whole new world, full of wonder and expectation. Nothing seems to come quick enough and we expect what should be the unexpected such as catching a fish with every single cast. Our frustration is great because our patience is nil not to mention our skills are lacking in all arenas of fly-fishing. We struggle to discern what is really important at this stage of our fishing life because we are fixated on battling fish instead of trying to learn what we need to learn in order to do just that – capture fish. It is a point in our life that we really don’t know the difference in a wet fly and a streamer, what a swing, strip, or drift is. We falter and stagger through our fly-fishing outings but still we somehow learn important lessons even if we don’t want to…just like a child does. This stage is the difficult stage and is the point where most that are trying to learn to fly-fish simply give up.

However, if we make it through the struggle and survive the childlike stage of fly-fishing, we soon enter the young adult stage. It is here we go from teenagers to maturing young adults. Think about your teenage years, did you ever bet your buddy that your car would beat his in a back road drag race taking place on a road with a name like Drag Race Drive or Hub Cap Alley? Perhaps it was a 66 Mustang pitted against a GTO, Camaro, or Roadrunner, you know…. one of those fast late sixty or early seventies cars. And such happens during the teenage years of our fly-fishing life. In this stage we are competitive. We invite friends on an outing and without announcing it we find ourselves wanting, desiring, trying to capture more fish than our friends. It is a bravado type of thing, fun in the moment, but still important to our fishing egos. At this point we have learned to cast fairly well, know the difference in flies and how to fish them and continue to work on such things as delicate presentations. But patience…it’s still not quite there. We have started new careers which look quite promising and even more promising in the fact that we now have the ability to get more fly-fishing stuff. The world ahead of us looks quite bright and during this stage we get to fish quite often. But again, we fish with impatience, trying to squeeze in a weeks worth of fly-fishing into a single weekend so we can get back to that promising career that promises us a new five weight rod…a rod that was once beyond the stretches of our budget. The patience of the heron is far downstream at this point.

Speaking of downstream…the journey of our fly-fishing life eventually leads us to middle age. This is an era where we are still capturing fish but enjoying the overall experience more than in years gone by. This is the time in our fishing life where our skills have improved tremendously, along the way, and the time that we employ the volumes of knowledge learned while on the water. In our middle ages we still have cause to ponder, wonder, and question why certain things are. For example, we may ask ourselves why trout are more attracted to something that looks like thread on a very small hook rather than a big piece of protein like a Wooly Bugger. Yes, questions like these become some of life’s persistent questions speaking from the fly-fishing side of life. In our middle ages we are fine with either fishing with friends or fishing alone. Solitude becomes one of our friends during our middle ages, because it is in this time frame of the fisher’s life that the experience is what we really seek. Texas fly-fisher Chris Adams perhaps says it better than most in these thoughts for his beloved Blue River.

” I kind of like fishing in the cold, there’s less people. It sure is nice and peaceful when you don't see a soul all day. Yeah I know, being selfish wanting the Blue all to myself sometimes. She never nags, complains or any of that other stuff. She just quietly offers up herself to anyone that wants to share her company and solitude. She never pretends to be something she's not or has to be dolled up with makeup, perfume, diamonds or expensive clothing. No matter what is happening in our lives she patiently waits for our return, not that we can bring anything of worth. But still she waits to give to each person a quiet serenity that can't be found in the busyness of life. She keeps about her business, given to her by God, to breathe life into the deer, turkey, fish, birds, to all who visit her...and yes even to this Texan. In her own way she helps to keep my sanity, and Lord knows I don't have any to spare. I always miss seeing my fellow fly fishers at the annual trout derbies and take no offense, most of all I'll miss spending time with Lady Blue.” – Chris Adams

During the middle ages of the fly-fishers life there is one apparent, quite noticeable, difference…we begin to fish more and more like the heron. The patience is coming and it is welcomed.

Finally the golden years of our fly-fishing life arrive or perhaps we simply wade our way there. Things don’t come quite as easy for us now. The clinch knots that once seem so simple take a little longer. We wade quite a bit slower taking more caution with almost each step. The skills are still there but the endurance is diminishing compared from years past. Stealth is still with us perhaps not out of trying but simply out of necessity – we are slower and quieter. We stand in the rivers of our lives remembering that there was a day, there really was. These memories are both special and bittersweet and we wouldn’t trade for any of them. Some of our fishing friends are still around; others have passed on and are fishing bigger waters. During our golden years we finally gain a true appreciation for the patience of the heron.

Personally I know my golden years are up ahead somewhere. My prayer is that I will get to experience them for at least awhile. But life is uncertain and holds few guarantees just as the success of capturing fish is never a sure thing. So, for me getting a head start on learning to fish with the patience of a heron makes perfect sense and therefore I will begin now. It is doubtful that I will ever have the heron’s grace, skill, and what I admire most of this wonderful fisher – patience. But try I must.

Yes they do say patience is a virtue and henceforth I will remain patient in seeking a likeness of the patience of the heron.