That spring morning, my nap was interrupted early in the morning by the alarm clock, and as I looked out the window, it became clear to me that I would have to leave the morning confusion in bed and venture to the hunting ground, as the sun’s rays were already reflecting off the highest mountains and illuminating the cold valley. Despite the haste with which I ventured to the starting point, after crossing the willows, I noticed the sun-drenched beauty of Slovenian rivers – the Soča River. As usual, I walked away from the shore, along the wide pebble beach, past the first jet to the very end of the pool, to start fishing in the lower part, because by tiring out the hooked catch, we usually don’t disturb the other fish positioned higher up the stream. I walked carefully and cautiously until I started to laugh at the sight of the arranged bright spots that moved elegantly left and right in the stream, because with every step I saw a new one. At the end of the pool, I approached the river and, despite the heat, took a few moments to observe the fish and soon convinced myself that most of them were almost certainly marble trout. It was also clear that the fish feed in the lower part of the water column, so I unexpectedly put down my backpack and one of the rods and enthusiastically unwound the fly line and made a few warm-up casts to the side, prepared the appropriate length and presented the nymph to the nearest of the hungry marble beauties. With a good cast, I tightened the leader and focused hard on the fish and the sensations in my hand. The nymph had obviously veered slightly off course in the current, but this did not distract the hungry animal, which, with its gaping snout, moved a good decimeter and devoured the apparent food. With an immediate pull, its golden side lit up for the first time and a smile instantly appeared on my face. After a short struggle, I caught the fish a few dozen meters downstream in the net and, as always when looking at a completely wild, healthy native trout, I was momentarily stunned by admiration. The perfectly hydrodynamic body, which in even such a fast current does not allow the boundary layer of fluid to detach from the surface of the body, thereby causing unnecessary turbulence and additional resistance, and the golden-colored continuous fins are without a doubt a miracle of nature and at the same time the complete opposite of artificially bred fish. With the intention of minimizing the effects of stress or the epidermis, I quickly took a photo of it, constantly submerged in cold water, and happily watched it dart back into the turquoise depths like an arrow, full of energy.

It was precisely with this intention that I left the overfished pool, crossed the river and began to walk towards the next rapid. The unusually hot rocks radiated with increasingly unbearable intensity, which is why, surprised by the fact that I only came across the first few rainbows of the day so late, I decided to find some shade and take a rest. I had in mind a specific former river meander, which was slightly changed due to the high waters but nevertheless hid the desired sandy beach in the shade of the newly greened low willows. Away from the midday hustle and bustle of various water sports that burden the Soča almost all day, I refreshed myself and dozed off in the howling of the updraft wind, rushing towards the peaks.

Nature, which is the best at measuring time, ignored the recently disappeared shadow and, with the sun directly on my head, reminded me of the approaching late afternoon. I arrived back at the main stream, waded into the river again and decided to fish only with a dry fly. While walking next to one of the beautiful sections with a laminar flow, I noticed a dark spot on the border of light sand and yellowish rocks, very clearly a rainbow trout. As always, I stopped and just watched the action for a few moments. The day had already turned into evening and there was almost no biomass in the air, which did not stop the hope of an unexpected rise of the fish. I waited for a few minutes, after which the rainbow trout rose very slowly and, without breaking the surface in any way, picked up a very small fly that was impossible to see. That was it! I jumped with happiness and was already tying a small fly. Although I made more than one perfect presentation, the unusually picky rainbow completely ignored my imitations. So I changed at least two flies and began to suspect that it was a fish that was not wild but had definitely been in the river for a long time. On the first presentation of the third shot, I hit the Achilles’ heel. The fish swam after the fly without recovering and, barely noticeable, slowly slurped the tiny fly. With a delay, I pulled the rod, and the pink reflection of the rainbow appeared in the water. It was not large, but after being caught in the net, I noticed that it was an extremely beautiful specimen, because the fish did not have a single abrasion or oval, let alone a cut fin. With the desire to see more such exemplary rainbows, especially in the Soča, I carefully waved goodbye to the beauty after a quick photo shoot.