The streambanks, even the stream bottoms, are mostly bare. There might be snow and ice. Days are short but the cold weather lasts for a long time. Overall, things are gray, It isn’t the same as fishing in the spring, summer, or fall. But it is still fishing. Guides and fingers freeze. Fish, and most fishermen, don’t have the same motivation.

So what is the solution? How do you get up and get out when everything is gray?

It comes down to making a choice. The fishing will be slower and the conditions will be less than ideal, but it will still be fishing. Time in front of the television is fine. Time behind the tying vise is good. A good fly fishing book by a warm fire is excellent. But none of those experiences will put you in direct contact with a fish.

The key to fishing in the gray months is to embrace the experience. There are tactics that will increase your odds of hooking up. Understanding the seasonality of fish behavior and the dynamics of the winter ecosystem helps. Like so many other areas of life, simply being present is the most meaningful component of this kind of fishing. You get your casts in. You patiently make your presentations, allowing the swing to pass through the feeding lanes. You don’t rush it. You can’t rush it. Rushing it might give you the false impression that you’re moving, fishing efficiently, or even keeping warm. It just isn’t a recipe for success.

My first gray fly fishing came in the Appalachians. Trout that normally rose willingly to anything with hackle disappeared. The streams became as still as the icy landscape. There is a cold that is almost more frigid when there is no snow; everything is just frozen solid. The meandering creeks concealed brook trout that lay as still as the surrounding forest. The fishing was not what I was used to. Trout were counted as “a fish” or “a few fish” as opposed to dozens. Those few fish meant a lot though. The usual bright colors of the native brook trout stook our much more than usual. Blue halos, white-tipped fins, and orange bellies were the only colors amidst the gray.

Again: it comes down to making a choice. The winter is a time when the periphery of fly fishing and the angling adjacent truly matters. It means choosing to appreciate the quiet, allow for challenge, and acknowledge the beauty within the gray.

Clothes matter. Gear matters. Catching fish matters. But the most important thing is just getting out. Because there won’t be any fish, any time on the water, and anything outside if you don’t get out. The gray is all you’ll see when you don’t get out. But if you do, and you put in the time, something bright and lively may be your reward.