There are neighbors; good neighbors, and the neighbors who invite you fish their ponds.

All of my neighbors fall into either the second or third category – a blessing, to be sure, although I’m beginning to worry that I could be guilty abusing my pond privileges.

In particular, I’ve developed the highly addictive habit of stringing up my 2 weight fly rod (an 8-0  TFO,, highly recommended) and regularly taking a short evening stroll to my neighbor Gerald’s pond.

The pond is not far from the barn but could be in the middle of a golf course, so neatly is it groomed. The bank is rock lined and the grass always freshly mowed, leaving ticks no place to hide. Even the mosquitos are kept at bay by the purple martins that roost in the bird house stationed at the northeast corner. The only obstacle to my occasional errant backcast is a lone willow tree.

It’s also loaded with bluegill and catfish. 

The bluegill are too friendly for their own good. I have yet to tangle with one of the catfish, which, undoubtedly, would make short work of the  2 weight.

Nick Lyons, who has enjoyed a fishing life that most of us can only imagine, told me recently that he loves ponds and pond fishing and wishes that he had more of them in his life. (His bittersweet story, “The Judge’s Swim Pond,” should be required reading of all pond fishermen.)

Nick, I share your passion. Now, if I can just get my neighbor to toss in a few bass . . .