Most anglers are told from an early age that the best times for fishing are dawn and dusk. While these hours of varying daylight provide another transition that fish key in on, the this adage might simply be to get anglers to appreciate moments in the outdoors that many are not privy to.
Daybreak
An angler sees things at dawn that he won't see any other time of day. The waters are still, the nighttime creatures are winding up their activities and the last stars fade out of the waning night sky while the first rays of sun build up behind the hills on the horizon. The grass around the stream is coated with dew and lakeside docks are glistening with a slippery coating of moisture.
A calm water usually accompanies daybreak, reflecting the growing light like a looking glass. The surface is only disturbed by rising fish, hatching insects and the slight wake of the boat preparing for take off. With the winds of the afternoon still several hours away, early morning is a time to savor.
The drop of a spinner rig in near darkness signals the beginning of the chase, as the world wakes up around the unsleeping silver eyes of the fish below the surface. Light-sensitive cells pick up the whirling blade and with a sip, a walleye sets the spirit for the rest of the outing.
Or it could be that a frog-pattern Pop-R splashes down near a shoreline tree and the impact rings slowly dissipate as the tension mounts. A couple of quick twitches in the silver-blue surface ignite an explosion from a bass that shatters the morning calm. The added commotion of either occurrence shifts the view from environment to the excitement of fishing.
Then the return to dock with the sun burning white-yellow in the morning sky, and perhaps a fish or two in tow for breakfast is a perfect match for pancakes, bacon and eggs. Top the meal off with a mid morning nap and it is a Saturday that dreams are made of. Perhaps those dreams are of the evening fishing events to come.
Dusk
Long after the last pontoon has cruised by the dock or the last load of grass has been dumped from the lawnmower, the first shades of twilight creep across the eastern sky. Whatever went on during the day is cemented in the past and an orange-blue evening of fishing lies ahead.
Sunrise, though beautiful, cannot compare to a sunset. The slow fade of light into dark is always a show. The canvas is rarely bare as the brush stroke of some evening clouds such as wispy cirrus or mountain-like thunderheads prepares the portrait to be a masterpiece, streaked with changing hues of pink, orange and gold ignited by the sinking sun.
Underneath the atmospheric artwork, the light-fearing fish find bravery. Walleyes leave their haunts from the deeper realms of a rock reef to survey the shallow edges for bait fish. Muskies move in hopes of finding prey big enough to satisfy their appetite as the last of the daytime fish such as bluegills and perch hunker down for the unpredictable night.
When the light show is over and dark has crept in, the experience that will always signal the end of the day for me is the cry of a loon; the sorrowful sighs mourning the passing of another day into memory. As if inviting the stars to shine and the moon to rise, the lamentation of the loon is a haunting reminder to enjoy each day and night, and that missing out on an opportunity to be on the water for either event is a sad occurrence.
The value of a summer is measured by how many dawns and dusks an angler witnesses on the water. Whether it is the serious pursuit of game fish, or a slow down from life's frantic pace, sunrise and sunset provide moments of connection with nature many need and can only find...in our outdoors.
