Watching From Above
For days, every afternoon I’d head out and slowly crawl down the bank hoping to photograph and video the fish. I start downstream in a deeper pool where funky green algea lines the bottom of the slough.
Trout swim into the deeper pool and just stop. Some stay in the water column about a foot off the bottom, while others actually lie on the bottom. Here, there is no current. Don’t fish need current and movement to breathe, I wondered?
Upstream, trout splash in the shallow trickle. What could they be doing?
For days, I watch the big pool. I shoot video of trout swimming and drifting in the water column. I watch in amazement as fish rocket out of hiding spots in the algea and from under rocks should I make any sudden moves. Who knew trout like to bury themselves in the soft green algea? Certainly more questions than answers.
As I sit quietly on the bank, my attention often turns upstream where I witness splashing, wakes, and, in some cases, just ruckus. I decide to give up my spot by the deep pool and try to capture whatever is going on in the thin water the next day.
Creeping in on fish in shallow water just isn’t possible. I’m too loud, there is too much brush and twigs breaking, rocks underfoot crunch, and the trout scurry away. I’m going to need a new plan.