Gillzillas

It was a little pond, about a cast and half across about anywhere. And just a simmering stew of life. Moss, duck weed, cattails, all working alive with creeping, swimming and flying things. Pretty much impossible to fish from shore, I broke my way thru the cattails and settled into my tube. About every ten minutes a small 8 or 10 inch bass would jump clear of the water like it was trying to capture on of the hundreds of dragonflies skimming over the surface. All those tiny bass were why I was here. Not to catch them but because most ponds chock full of tiny bass have huge bluegill. Afloat out here in the middle there was room to cast the little four weight. I fished a small deer hair bug in the holes in the duckweed. It turned out the gills wanted the bug to just lie there where they would inspect it for seemingly forever before finally slurping it down. And they didn't disappoint, held in the hand the tails would lap up on my wrist on every fish. I just wish I'd brought a change of clothes. I spread out my rain poncho to sit on during the drive home but still smelled like a bucket of mud...