Being a fly fisherman and living in the arid American West has taught me a great appreciation for water. My need to scan every passing body of water for fish has caused my eyes to evolve the capability of independent directional focusing. One eye scans the passing water for fish and the other eye continues to look forward watching traffic as I drive down the road. This is what I tell Elaine as she cowers in the passenger seat, certain that I am not paying attention to the road.
One of the most notable features I have noticed on our travels through the Northeast is the abundance of water. Massive rivers flow through old mill towns. Uncountable numbers of ponds hide in the dense forest. Many of these ponds are so large they would rival the biggest lakes in the West.
Feeding these rivers and ponds are secret streams that bring all of Maine’s fresh water to the show.
One morning while staying on a farm deep in the woods of central Maine, our friend Skip gave me directions to a stream hidden in the forest. This stream is called Lemon Stream. I followed a dirt road to a point where it crossed a simple one-lane concrete bridge and parked the truck. After hiking down an overgrown path, I stepped out onto a huge, water-scoured granite boulder and was gifted with this gorgeous view of Lemon Stream Falls.
Over time unmeasured, Lemon Stream has carved a canyon in the granite rock. It washed away the topsoil, leaving steep walls and massive boulders sprinkled along the floor of the canyon. Not to the scale of the great canyons in the West but equally beautiful, Lemon Stream has earned its own entry into Mother Nature’s art show.
Walking down the middle of the stream, I found treasures everywhere I looked. Frogs and tiny fingerling trout scurried out from under my feet. Beautiful exotic mushrooms claimed seats under ancient oak trees, commanding the best views in the house.
Looking over the edge of one rock wall, I spotted a pool of water. I reached my fly rod down and over the pool and danced a small caddis fly imitation on the still water. Wham! No sooner than the fly touched the water, a wild Maine Brook trout saved the fly from drowning.
My day was complete. Trout live in beautiful places.