No, not the kind that let's me post this thread. Not the kind that keep Pennsylvania Avenue and the Beltway humming. Not the kind that Vinnie and Tony have down in Brooklyn. They're all rather fleeting in comparison to other types of connections. Let's look at the connection between a fly, the line, the rod, the water, a fish, and maybe someone who's no longer with us. My Dad passed away a few years ago. When his wife followed him just a year or so later I went down to Florida to help settle their estate. I brought home his guns, some rods, other odds and ends, and a fly box. As you can see it's kind of dime store in it's appearance. There's an odd collection of flys in it, some spinners, a couple of poppers, and a loose hook or two. I poked through this somewhat cheesy assortment of flies thinking "how could these ever catch a fish"? Well, this summer I plan to find out. I'm going to be taking this box with me each time I fish and I'll use one to two of them to see if they indeed can catch fish, or more accurately if I can catch a fish with them. It will be a challenge for sure, most, if not all of them are dry flys. Most of what I fish are not. I can think of one spot at the south end of Lost Lake that might be some fun with some willing brookies. We'll see... My dad and I were not close. We spent most of our lives apart, far apart. When I was growing up in Upstate New York he lived in Southern California. When I moved west he retired and moved to Florida. We only fished together twice in our lives. I went to visit him in Florida and we would drop the skiff off the davits into the canal and head for open water. We never caught much but it gave us private time together. Our real connections only happened when he was on his downhill slide. The last few visits were the closest ones we had. It is sad we wasted so much time. But that's how it is with sons and fathers sometimes. Maybe these little bits of fur and feather will provide some connection. We'll go fishing a few more times, And one of these trips I'll take Dads ashes with me and he'll go fishing for the last time.