Everything on the mountain gets eaten

Just a few days ago, I took my fly rod out for its last "serious" walk of the season(most likely).  Unless a few events fall right into place.  I fished a tributary of the Yellowstone.  I didn't see a single other person except for the friend I was with all day.  The cottonwoods and aspens that lined the river were golden and some were falling with the breeze.  I got the pleasure of throwing streamers all day, watching brown trout, some attacking with reckless abandon.  Others looking, I'm sure some not looking at all.  Not a spectacular day, but a good one, complete with some cow talk, a distant bugle and the smell of elk.

All the colors, the snow in the high country and that nice bite of fall in the wind.  It renewed my passion to get out and hunt, after all we are going to need some meat in the freezer. I look forward to getting back and connecting a little.  Not just shopping for the package of meat in the refrigerated section.  It always reminds me of my wife, In fact she told me that when she was younger she just sort of assumed that there was a "meat" compartment in an animal.  Like you just sorta opened up the drawer pull it out and send the critter back to pasture. Getting on the ground, doing the work, the right way with respect for the game, thats what I look forward to.