Words and images by Fabio Purroy
As many other afternoons, my friend Ola Søndrål picks me up and we drive our journey east, where the silhouette of the Rogaland mountains outline the horizon. The weather is calm, windless and has an atmosphere that almost reminds of summer. Something strange in the case of the west coast.
For us it means good news, the increase in temperature during the day will cause insect hatching at sunset and, with it, more activity of trout on the surface. All the necessary ingredients for a perfect afternoon of fly fishing.
Already in the river the silence embraces our being. Ola and I are the only ones in the place and it seems that it is already a common trend. Breaking our initial motivation, the afternoon takes place between dozens of casts and lost flies in the tree branches.
Only with the last flashes of light the first trout is launched over the fly and for about 30 minutes later we can catch a few more. We do catch and release, admiring all the colors, sizes and shapes that draw each fish before to return them to the water and let them grow even more.
This is a moment of study and contemplation. I talk with Ola about the perception of the natural world. We remarked how this vision has changed drastically with the new generations and how strange it is to describe the role of anglers in times flooded by the speed of a modern society.
I guess not many people is willing to make hundreds of casts to maybe get a fish or maybe not. For us, fly fishing is a continuation of our 9-to-5 routine, a source of inspiration that reminds us to use our imagination. We try to appreciate the mysticism that forced us to pursue new adventures on our daily basis.
A call to the most introspective view of the natural world.
