The mist was heavy in the woods! the fish were rising on the pond as a hatch was spreading to greet the light , as evidence that nature had carried on through the dark and dreary night . With fly in hand, and fly rod arched, i spied a large trout lurking off the bank and set to spring, with uncanny deftness the line peeled out of the reel and the leader set the fly on the water with a fling . I wasn't sure what happened next, but the line had met it's test as the trout, it launched into the air, and jerked and tugged without a care. The line was taut, the fish was large, i tried to contain my youthful urge, of jumping up and down for joy, and in my own exhuberance, of man over fish, i still considered this better than any toy. The fish was caught, I had won and yet the thought had lingered on, to let him go, or to take hime home? The idea vanished as I nursed him in, and pulled the hook from his crooked jaw, for a moment gazed at this specimen with gentle hand and let him go and continue to roam.