Little white fluffy cumulus clouds were playing peek-a-boo with the early spring sunshine and I was all alone on a beautiful spring creek with a steady hatch of small dark Baetis mayflies bring several trout to the surface. Like tiny sail boats with dark sails the small Baetis would hatch in a flurry as the sun slipped behind a cloud and quickly disappear when the clouds parted. I worked my way slowly along the edge of a long flat picking up several smaller trout that seemed all too willing to eat my fly. At the head of the flat a large cottonwood log was lodged along the far bank and a collection of limbs and flotsam had collected along the upstream end providing excellent cover. The past summer a large brown trout had taken up residence in that place but I had not been able to induce him to take any of my flies. Perhaps, I thought, he might still be there this year.