We floated slowly along the glassy flat, the summer sun slowly dipping below the trees, an isonychia quickly releasing from the surface to rise above the river. A smile came upon my face. The familiar smell of a breeze drifting through the plains of pines and bottoms of cedars combined with the sweet pungency of the riverbank & iris' and a campfire along the next bend. It's June - and it makes my heart happy. 

I joke, as I do every year - twice a year - that I'd rather than four Junes and four Octobers. Leave some time for skiing and chasing fish in the salt, but otherwise, life would be complete. But like with most nostalgic things tied to time that we hold dear to our hearts...it's the fleeting moments that cause us to reminisce and savor the time we have. As is June. The early evenings of sulphurs, fading in to the afternoons of isos, and then the late nights of hex. 

Time almost feels like it stops in the evenings as we move along the curves of our watery corridors. Then we either crash in our trucks - sticky, muddy & covered in bug spray, or slide into our beds at 4am after a shower that makes you question your sanity. Then after a quick nap, real life happens for a few hours and we do it all again. Day turns to night; night turns to day. I generally don't know what DAY it actually is, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's those evenings with the hum of mayflies and the sipper at the bottom of the log jam. It's June - and there is no replacement.